


throne

by locrianrose



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blood, F/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated M mostly for cursing, Royalty AU, the rest of funhaus is there too but more low key
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5731930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locrianrose/pseuds/locrianrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(things are far from optimal. really, they're anything but. either way, ryan's going to make this work, and hell have mercy on those who dare to stand in his way or who attempt to harm those who he cares for.)</p><p>...</p><p>For nearly fifty years, the Kingdom has chafed under the rule of those who came from the New Kingdom under the pretense of ridding the land of the dangerous evils of magic. Those who possess and practice the arcane arts are imprisoned or executed. As tensions heighten between the two sides, the lines between the two will blur and mesh for some, while for others they will only strengthen.</p><p>(Currently on hiatus.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Catalyst

There was nothing to be heard as the guard continued his seemingly endless route, shuffling his feet and wringing his hands in an attempt to warm himself against the bitter chill. A fog was slowly approaching from the coast, and he took a moment to mutter a prayer under his breath to ward against spirits—a practice that would have him whipped should he be seen, but with the fog approaching it was instinctive. Such a thing was a sign of magic, and one that he wouldn’t forget, no matter what the current rulers taught them. He rounded the corner, nodding silently to one of his fellows as he passed, still distracted by the tendrils of fog slowly curling in. Any other night he’d pause to trade a word or two, make a joke at the expense of whatever noble was visiting in an attempt to gain the favor of the king, but tonight his uneasiness prevented that.

In the end, his caution didn’t and couldn’t have ever prevented or stopped the snarling behemoth of a creature that dropped from the sky with an unearthly screech, sending flames forth that consumed his flesh even as he screamed for assistance. His life ended even as other guards began to converge on the beast, their blades doing little to scratch the scales of the creature that trampled them before it. The fog that should have been burned away by the heat of the flames, remained, thickening with a gesture from a woman on the back of the beast, framed by scaly wings and the fire and flames of the dragon that now approached the castle.

From within the castle, alarms were sounded at the approach of the dragon and its companion, coming closer and closer, accompanied by fire and fog that swirled and mixed in a way that could only be created by the use of the magic. Michael knew this, and so when he rose from his cot, yelling out to his fellow guards and to urge them to their posts. He was distressed to find the serving mages conspicuously absent. He swore, knowing that if the dragon had been sighted, then other enemies would undoubtedly be following. The King and Queen would be hidden, and he would do his duty to fight the battle that too many of his men had already been lost to.

He grabbed his sword, rushing towards the door, prepared to assist in defending the castle, but before he could do more than exit the barracks he was stopped in his tracks by another man, standing before him and blocking his path towards the flames and chaos.

“Michael—Mogar—“

“Lawrence.” Michael growled in response, tensing furiously as he waited for the other’s orders.

“Hang back. We need you to stay out of the way.”

“So you’re saying you’ve got this under control?” He gestured towards the flames that were visible in the inner courtyard from where they stood. 

“No, I’m saying that your orders are to stay here.” Lawrence shifted, trying to position himself before Michael more carefully.

Archers lined the walls of the castle, prepared to fire at the command, and he watched as the dragon and the woman advanced, listening to the call for them to attack. Their arrows flew towards the dragon, some burning in the flames, some clattering off against its scales, even as the woman who had been riding it disappeared. Some stuck, and with a roar the dragon swooped towards the archers, wings knocking them down and scattering their weapons.

“They need my help—you know that.”

“No—“

A shout from across the way interjected into their conversation as he saw another volley of arrows approach the dragon, one striking it with an accuracy and strength that he knew would only come from one arch, watching even as the dragon clawed its way across the wall towards the remaining archers, sending the familiar green-clad figure that he struggled to spot through the haze in his mind falling to the ground, unmoving as he landed.

“Gavin—“ He screamed the other man’s name before cutting off his own yell, letting out an angry shout, pushing past Lawrence, consequences be damned, finally allowing himself to charge at the dragon, the madness finally taking him as he charged the creature, no care for his own wellbeing as he fought, slashing furiously at the beast. They’d forbidden him from taking action for too long now, and he’d seen the carnage outside from the open door, and he’d not allow himself to be prevented from fighting should he be truly needed.

Mogar saw his moment, charging towards the beast, sword drawn and prepared to strike at the creature, his rage building as he saw the forms of the men that he’d helped to train scattered. His blade, enchanted as it was by the servants of the king, struck the wing of the dragon, slashing through the membrane. The beast turned on him, a swing of a claw sending him into a wall where he slumped for a moment, leaping to his feet again, rage clouding his vision.

 

* * *

 

“Took you long enough.”

“Hey, she's doing the best that she can. Don’t give me grief for that.” The woman replied as she quickly worked the entrance to the gate, opening it just enough to allow the man in.

“I know _that_.”

“Then why’d you have to say I took too long?”

"Lindsay isn't doing well alone, Meg."

"Oh. Well, get in and I'll get back to her then. She'll be fine–They aren’t prepared for anything like her."

"...Yeah."

"Ry, what did you do?"

"Nothing! It was her idea, not mine."

"Fine. Just hurry, and I'll get back to her. Jinx said they'd be moving him soon."

"Good."

The two moved down the hall, passing unobserved in the bustle and confusion of servants attempting to flee in the chaos.

“Did you make sure that they all got out?”

“Of course I did.” Meg said with a casual jab of her elbow into her companion’s stomach. “I’m a professional. I do my job.”

“And you’re sure Jinx is fine?”

“Positive. I really do think she’d like it here if things were different.”

“Good. Head back to Lindsay then, if you’ve got that taken care of.”

“On it.” They reached an intersection in the halls and Meg stopped, grabbing his arm to force him to stop, looking into his eyes. “Be careful. I know you think that you’re untouchable—but please. Be careful, Ryan.”

“Meg, please. I’m always careful.”

“Good.” Meg gave the man a slight hug, then released his arm before turning to blend into the confusion again.

Ryan took a moment to watch her leave before continuing forward, following the route that he alone knew he would be taking into the depths of the castle. True, Jinx had provided the layouts of the castle, but he’d be a fool to trust anyone completely, even one such as her who he’d helped as he had. As he continued, calculating every turn and action, he took a moment to focus his magic on his companions, feeling out to see how Lindsay was coping with the battle. The shock of her pain and fury distracted him for a fraction of a moment as he did so, but the roar of her magic forced his attention away and on to the course at hand. She was, perhaps more than any of the others, dedicated to their cause and goal, something he was grateful for.

He supposed that he did truly trust her, if no one else. She alone would be the most lost without his abilities—and while she did know that, he’d been sure to never force her to need to choose between his assistance and her own causes. She trusted him completely, and he knew that, and so long as she needed and cared for him, he would trust her.

Jinx was waiting, as they had planned. She didn’t nod to him as he passed, merely sweeping up her skirts and moving quickly in the opposite direction, her mere presence indicating that he would be safe to continue onwards, and so he did. The halls were quieter here, and the presence of guards were increasing. The bulk of their force would likely be occupied with the dragon at the gate, but there would still be a suitable amount of their number hidden here, protecting the cowardly nobles of the city, the oppressors of so many. This would not have been easy had he been forced to do it alone, but thanks to the additional power from Lindsay he’d be more than capable of dealing with any forces that they held here.

Lindsay was worried. He could tell that through their connection, diminished as it was, and he took a fraction of a moment to reassure her. Meg would be there soon, and then he’d be more than ready to do what he needed to do, and their escape would be made.

Ryan shifted slightly, feeling the attention of the guards as it shifted to him, pressing down and alerting him to their growing suspicion as he moved forward. They would try to stop him now, and they would fall.

The first stepped forwards, a man who looked far too relaxed to be a guard of the royals, gesturing the other way.

“No access.”

Ryan didn’t let him continue, drawing his blade, swinging it into the guard and cutting into him before he had time to react, sending the body slumping to the floor. The other gaurds were far more cautious—one of their number had now been slain by a man who moments before had appeared to have been unarmed, but before the next could even move Ryan warped himself forwards, drawing on the link with Lindsay to force himself across the room at unbelievable speeds, felling the guards as he did so. The power that flowed through his veins filled him with a bitter joy as his blade sliced through flesh and armor, leaving his victims incapacitated and the grim smile on his lips increasing into a manic grin. The blood soaked his flesh, but as his appearance only grew more gruesome. The benefits of the power that he could draw from a dragon surpassed anything he could have done alone, and not for the first time he congratulated himself for his recruitment of the other.

A grudging sense of irritation from Lindsay briefly crossed to him from their bond, and he didn’t allow it to distract him. He’d talk with her about it all later—there wasn’t much that could be hidden through the bond of their magic, so there wasn’t any sense in hiding it now.

The guards continued to fall, and in a moment of derision he thought to himself that they honestly couldn’t have thought that the dragon was the only threat. Lindsay didn’t seem to like that thought, her irritation growing, sharing with him the impression of the powerful berserker that she was now fighting.  Ryan reassured her, then continued onward towards to the door that he knew was his goal. The man before it was slighter than any of the other guards he’d yet faced, holding himself tensely. The man wouldn’t stand a chance. Ryan didn’t bother to drain Lindsay for magic for this—one man wouldn’t be a trouble—and while he did manage to counter Ryan’s first strike, the next felled him, leaving him sprawled with the rest.

Entering the room, he was initially taken aback by its emptiness, using the magic that he manipulated so well to search the room, staring at the one man who stood in the center of the room.

“Well, shit. I take it this means that Caleb’s dead?”

“Where are they?”

“Dude, trust me. You’re going to want to leave soon.”

Ryan strode forward, pointing his blade at the other’s throat. The man edged back, nervousness showing in his movements.

“Yeah. I take it that you’re not going to just trust me on this one. Really getting the vibe that this isn’t going to go well.”

“You know who I’m here for.” Ryan shoved the man to the wall with a low chuckle, lifting his blade to place it at the other’s throat, noting the nervous gulp that caused his throat to barely brush his blade. “Tell me now, and _maybe_ I’ll gut you quickly.”

“Yeah, somehow that isn’t looking like my best option here. Try something else?”

A growl escaped his lips at the man’s lip, and he tightened his grip, preparing to summon his magic, to do something to drive this man’s secrets from him, force him to confide in him what had happened, where his targets were and why his plan had thus failed, when a sharp sense of pain came to him from the connection that he held with Lindsay, a horrible tearing that left him staggering back, the man who he’d previously had pressed against the wall eyeing him warily.

“Get out of there.” Ryan growled under his breath, trying to force Lindsay to listen to his will, to flee and leave the fight that he now realized with a shock that she was losing, that while her magic still flowed strongly it couldn’t heal the wound that she’d sustained—and where was Meg? Why wasn’t she there?

“Uh, man? I’m not really sure what’s going on, but this isn’t really how they said that it’d go. I thought it’d be more, y’know, you try to fight me, I crush you, or maybe we both just give up, you leave—work with me here.”

“Shut up.” Ryan spared the man a single glance and a single hissed comment, noting his again seemingly unarmed state before making up his mind, determining the best way to discover the flaw with his plan. They couldn’t rely on Jinx after this, not after how they’d failed.

“Lindsay—I’m going to get out. Meg will help you—she’ll be there soon. She has to be.” Ryan whispered desperately again, struggling to maintain the connection, sheathing his bloody sword without a second thought for the condition it’d be in when he removed it.

“Shit, you really are crazy, aren’t you?”

Ryan spun on the man, driving his fist into the side of his head, leaving the man reeling and stumbling back, but where the man should have fell, he instead sighed, speaking once more.

“I think that’s my cue to actually start trying. _Shit,_ that hurt.”

The atmosphere of the room chilled, and then they weren’t alone, the door bursting open once more, the soldiers that Ryan had slain to reach the room reentering, gaping wounds still hanging open, draining blood even now.

“Necromancer.” Ryan breathed the word under his breath, debating the emptiness of the room and the absence of the woman that he’d come to kill for a fraction of a moment before he lunged forwards, away from the undead soldiers to tackle the other man to the ground, pulling the magic away from Lindsay, praying that Meg had reached her. If this man truly was a Necromancer—if that was truly what he was, Lindsay would understand why he needed to find him, why his capture—or rescue—would be help to make up something of the failure this had turned into. Things had not gone as they had planned, but gaining a necromancer to their cause would be something.

The man buckled beneath him, yelping as Ryan wrapped his arms around him, pulling a knife from his belt.

“Stop them.” Ryan ordered, pressing the knife against the other’s throat, watching as the figures lurched forwards.

“Well, you’ve got me there.” The other man squirmed, and the undead figures stopped their progress forwards, halting.

“You can control them?”

“Obviously—“

Ryan interrupted the other before he could finish. “They’ll get us out.”

“Fine, yeah, sure, just—listen. I don’t want to be here more than any of the other mages did, so again, just listen.”

“Talk faster.” Ryan growled, flinching as he felt another twinge of pain from Lindsay and her battle.

“I can help us get out—I’ll help you, if you’ll get me out. They thought you’d kill me, or I’d kill you, and really man, I’d just like to get out.”

Ryan silently debated his options. They’d been betrayed, that was sure. Someone had to have told of what they were doing, what their plans were. Lindsay wasn’t doing well, and there was a chance that she wouldn’t be able to continue to fight and use her magic to protect herself and Meg as soon as the other reached her.

He needed to get out, and again, the necromancer would be a valuable ally.

“…Fine.” Ryan didn’t move to release the other, pushing him forward. “Tell them where to go.” He jerked his head at the undead.

“Well, first of all, leaving out this door won’t do much good. They know that you’re here.”

“Obviously.” Ryan gritted his teeth.

“And this really was a panic room for the nobles, so like, we can get out here.” The necromancer pointed to the far wall and the tapestry that hung there.

Ryan walked forwards with him, keeping the knife carefully at his neck.

“Y’know, this’d be easier if you’d just, let me go.”

“Not a chance.”

“Fine.”

“Necromancer,” Ryan began, only to be interrupted by the other.

“Ray. Honestly, it’s not worth the trouble of you calling me something else. It’s Ray.”

“Show the way.”

“Gotcha.” Ray moved slowly forwards, tugging at a corner of the tapestry that pulled aside to reveal a heavy wooden door behind it. “You can use your magic shit to open that?”

“Easily. Keep in mind, Ray, should you betray me, you will die.”

“Yeah, sure. Vagabond, or whatever, just help me get out of here, and then I honestly don’t care what you do.”

“Deal.” Ryan didn’t reveal his name to the other, instead content to be called by the name that most knew him by. Shifting the knife carefully to his non-dominant hand, he reached for the door, sending a blast of magic at it, sending it flying from its hinges to lay on the ground in the darkened hallway beyond.

“Now, if you’re not against it, I’ll leave them behind.” Ray gestured towards the corpses. “Give us some time.”

“Good.”

The two stepped into the hallway, Ryan conjuring a ball of flame in his hand to float before them, lighting the way forwards. It floated on and around the corner, and once he felt that they’d moved far enough away from the corpses Ryan lowered his knife, allowing the other to stand on his own.

Ray gingerly rubbed at his throat but didn’t comment.

“How much farther?” Ryan asked, but before the other could answer he felt the connection with Lindsay that’d already been strained burn with pain, then disappear altogether.

The light he’d conjured flickered out, and he unwillingly dropped down to his knees, the sudden loss and lack of her magic overwhelming him.

“Er, Vagabond?” Ray’s voice echoed in the black hallway, and Ryan couldn’t respond for a moment, struggling to find words for the lack of sensations that’d swept over him. He needed to go back, to do something to help her, to find out where Meg was, or if she’d even managed to reach Lindsay in the first place.

“Hey, c’mon. You’ve gotta get me out of here.” Ray continued, and after a strained moment Ryan felt the other tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder. “Dude, you’re my way out.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say, how to form words that would allow him to say something to explain the chasm in his mind that now existed where previously Lindsay’s presence had been, but he was at a loss, unable to speak.

“Shit—No, I’ve got this.” Ray spoke again, then there was a moment of silence before a set of footsteps came down the path behind them, armored feet clattering. Ryan staggered to his feet, attempting to conjure up his fire again, merely succeeding in a spark that revealed one of the undead approaching them before it flickered out of existence again. Slumping against the wall, Ryan was unable to do anything but wait till the figure of the undead reached them, swinging him up and over its shoulder.

Whatever happened after that was a blur, the space and loss of magic from his mind leaving him in a blur, unable to do anything but wait and wonder what had happened, occasionally noting the movement of his body and words from Ray. It wasn’t until he felt the sensation of cool air blowing on his face and saw the dim light of the moon shining in through a grate in the wall that he was able to again focus, this time on Ray.

“Hey. I need you to get this open—I can’t do that.”

“’ve got to go back.” Ryan mumbled, dizzily noting that there was blood on his hands from the body of the soldier he’d killed before. “Can’t leave them.”

“Man, I hate to break it to you, but you’re screwed. There’s no way that you’d be able to go back there now. We need to get out.”

Ryan pondered what he was saying for a moment, then slowly nodded, slowly attempting to reach for his own magic again, lost without the veritable sea of magic that he’d had access to with the dragon before. It took a few tries, grasping at nothing, but eventually he was able to generate enough force to blast the grate off, the effort leaving him panting and still slumped on the reanimated corpse.

“Sweet.” Ray exited first, the undead following doggedly, Ryan still being carried along. He didn’t know where they were, but wherever it was, there were trees up against the wall.

“I can’t leave them.” He mumbled again, trying to push against the undead, only succeeding in pushing himself from the unwieldy creature’s arms, falling to the ground.

“Again, no other choice.” Ray stated, standing over him. “When I thought about escaping with the Vagabond, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“I can’t—“ Ryan slumped to the ground, exhaustion and the lack of magic finally overtaking him as he fell unconscious.

* * *

 

Ryan didn’t know how much time had passed when he opened his eyes next, the shock of the lack of magic hitting him again, this time manageable but accompanied by a splitting headache. He attempted to stand as quickly as he could, but the aching in his head was too much, and he instead settled for pushing himself up against the wall.

“Oh hey!” Another voice was heard, and he stared blearily across the small room to see the necromancer sitting, fiddling with a small pipe. “You’re awake! And alive, and that’s pretty good.”

“How long—“ Ryan began hoarsely. “How long has it been.”

“A day or two? I mean, it’s technically been another day and a night, so closer to two.”

“I need to find them—“ Ryan said, forcing himself to stand. “Lindsay and Meg.”

“Dude, if you’re talking about the dragon, then you’re out of luck. There’s no way we’re getting back to the castle. It was hard enough to drag you away, and then it’s mostly luck that we found the tavern here.”

“You don’t understand—“ Ryan began, but then stopped himself. “What do you know?”

“Next to nothing, but they’re not letting anyone in or out of the city, and they’re searching for you now.”

Ryan glimpsed a pitcher on a humble table, grabbing it and drinking deeply from the water in it. That did something to ease the aching in his head, but he now noted his hunger as well.

“Then I need—I need to find a way back in.”

“As your new ally and the one who dragged you out of there, that’s crazy stupid.”

“You don’t understand!” Ryan protested.

“I understand that you’re supposed to be the Vagabond, and that they’ll kill you on sight if they see you, and you couldn’t even walk out on your own. Really man, what else is there to know? With how that went I don’t understand how you could’ve done anything that they said you did.”

Ryan forced himself to stop and think at the other’s words. Without Lindsay’s power, he was severely off balance at the very least, and at the worst, he was unable to use his own power altogether. He’d been warned of this, years ago, what might happen if their connection was broken, but this was something that he’d never thought would actually plague him. He stopped, thought, and reached for the pendant that hung from a finely wrought chain around his neck, noting that it was still whole and present, indicating that whatever had happened to break their connection had happened on Lindsay’s end, not his. There was no way that connection could have been known of, unless—

“We were betrayed.”

“So what now?”

“I need to regroup. I can’t fight without them, and I can’t leave them.”

“Dude, you’re the Vagabond. You’re supposed to like, have all the magic.”

“Not without Lindsay.”

Ray seemed nonplussed.  Ryan didn’t elaborate, but as he pondered just what could’ve broken their connection, an idea came to his mind.

“…But I know someone who could, for the right price, return that power.”

“So you’ll go for it?”

“Of course.”

Ryan tentatively moved away from the table, glancing down at the crusted blood on his clothes, an important question finally coming to his mind.

“…Where are we?”

“Tavern. I mentioned that. Dead guy had some coins on him, I paid to get us room.”

“Fair enough.” Ryan nodded. “Baths?”

“Probably.” Ray shrugged. “I can go see. You should probably stay here, because of, you know, the blood.”

“What did you tell them before?”

“Bucked off a horse.”

“And they believed you?”

“He was pretty drunk.”

“I can imagine.”

“So, baths? I’ll go see?”

“I don’t feel like I need to remind you that I’d still be able to kill you like this if I needed to.”

“You just did, buddy. Could’ve killed you earlier if I wanted you dead.”

Ryan debated his options, then finally nodded.

“See what you can find.”

“Done.”


	2. Captivity and Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan wakes up. Michael is infuriated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely rewritten version of the previous chapter two. Most all of the events that take place here are completely different.

“You’re gonna fucking regret this!” Michael screamed, calling out down the hall where they’d thrown him down, slamming the cell door shut, and standing with no notice to the blood streaming from his leg. “You need me, and you know that! Don’t you fucking dare leave!” His breathing was heavy, and he refused to back down or allow himself to slow in his pacing, ignoring the blood that poured from the wound, his anger fueling his actions, enabling him to move, wishing furiously that he still had his sword with him, that they’d not pried it from his hands, tore it from his grasp.

He pounded his fists against the bars, yelling out at the singular guard who they’d seen fit to leave watching him, pretending like he’d done them wrong. Consumed with anger, he fell, forced to the ground by the fact that his legs would no longer support him, leaving him lying on the dungeon floor in a pool of his own blood.

This wasn’t right, was an injustice against him and all he stood for. They had to know what his role was, the power that he held over the people for what he’d done for them. They needed him.

There was a scuffle taking place down at the end of the hall, something taking place that he couldn’t find a way to make out because for some reason his vision was blurred, and a weakness in his bones that he couldn’t explain.

Something was being drug down the hall, a monstrosity that he couldn’t make out as he struggled to stand, flopping back down to the ground after a moment of attempting. His legs burned where the dragon had swiped at him and them in turn, cutting into them, but that hadn’t been the thing that’d stopped him in the end. No, it’d not been the dragon, it’d instead been his own fellow soldiers, dragging him back and away from the beast as the archers did their work, firing with exactness at the one spot that they seemingly needed to shoot. They’d drug him away before he’d seen the end of what they’d done, and here he lay now, trying to make out whatever was taking place, mouthing obscenities at them in an attempt to fight with the anger that he still felt until his vision finally faded completely to black, leaving him lying in his own blood, unconscious.

* * *

“Michael, c’mon. Open your eyes, boi.”

“…Fuck you.” Michael forced the words out, dizzily attempting to open his eyes, feeling the cold floor still under him. He tried to push himself up, falling back down to the floor. His legs burned, and he struggled to reach for them, attempting to pat them down, feeling the cloth that wrapped over them.

It took him a moment to process what was taking place, to really open his eyes and to stare into the eyes of the man who was standing on the other side of the bars.

“Gavin—fuck you!” He said, repeating the words with more enthusiasm. “You’re fine, you’re alive!”

“Of course I am, you bloody idiot!” Gavin looked insulted, Michael noted that.

“The dragon—it’d got you.”

“Nah.” Gavin shook his head, glancing away and down the hall. “’Course it didn’t. It’d take more than that.”

“But then—“ Michael paused, taking in the situation. “—Those bastards!” He declared, angrily shoving himself into a sitting position, careful now of the wounds that were wrapped.

“Michael,” Gavin began carefully, “you messed up, you’ve gotta know that. You straight up didn’t listen to Sonntag.”

“Bullshit—they need me, they won’t leave me here.”

“Michael, they didn’t need you then.”

“Again, bullshit—I saw what was happening.”

Gavin looked pained, hesitating before he continued. “Michael, I can’t tell you what they were doing. Not when you’re here, and I mean, really, the fact that you didn’t listen just proved what they said.”

Michael growled at the other, standing up slowly, leaning heavily on the bars as he did. “Don’t you dare tell me that. You know they need me, more than any of them’ll admit.”

Gavin sighed. “Sure they need you, but if you won’t listen, then you’re dangerous. You’ve got to get that.”

“Dangerous? Gavin, if they’re going to be idiots, then I’m not obliged to listen.”

“Then they’re not going to trust you, idiot!”

Michael could tell that Gavin was growing frustrated, but he didn’t feel inclined to stop. He opened his mouth to continue, but before he could do so Gavin turned, storming away and leaving him alone with the guard, who, for the first time, Michael paid attention to, slightly surprised by who was there.

“Lil J?”

The other looked at him tensely, then nodded.

“Lil J, you’ve gotta tell me what’s behind all this.”

“Not here, man.” Jeremy replied, jerking his head down the hall.  “Later, if I can, but man, I can’t do that in front of her.”

“In front of who?” Michael asked, looking down the hall that Gavin had disappeared down, noting now the fact that he wasn’t the only one imprisoned here.

“Her, man. The dragon, or whatever.”

“Shit.” Michael muttered, staggering over to the other side of the cell, taking in the figure slumped on the floor a few cells down and the fact that they, while still looking far from human, didn’t look like the dragon from before. “They’re keeping it in here?”

“Yeah. They stuck her in here just after you. I don’t know if she’s sleeping or what, but I’m not talking about anything here.”

“That’s not the dragon I fought.”

“It is, really. I don’t get it either. They’re saying it’s the Vagabond who did it, and there’s rumors about the other one who was with them.”

“The Vagabond?” Michael asked sharply, still staring at the creature. “He was here?”

“I don’t know much, I mean, I wasn’t there with them, but they’re saying that the lady who came with the dragon helped them to break the Vagabond in.”

The shape of the creature shifted, struggling to push itself up from the ground into something that resembled a sitting position. Michael noticed now why Jeremy had termed it as female, able to see the ways that it did resemble something between a human and the dragon he’d seen before, and uncomfortable mix of the two.

“You said—“ The creature—no, the dragon—began, forcing the words out. “That he’d been seen? The Vagabond? They didn’t catch him, did they?”

Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. “Man, this is why I don’t think I should talk about this here. They’ll take you out to check your legs again later, and I’ll tell you what I can then. I don’t want them catching me talking where she can hear it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Michael remarked, his attention still on the dragon. He raised his voice, calling out to it. “Hey! Why didn’t they kill you!”

The dragon didn’t respond to what he’d said, and he raised his voice again, anger evident in it. “You! If you’re with the Vagabond, then they should’ve killed you! They should’ve let me fight you!”

It was silent for a moment, then the dragon spoke. “I don’t know—I don’t know why they didn’t kill me, but I need to know, did Ry—Did the Vagabond escape?”

“Hey, I’ve gotta go tell them if she’s talking.” Jeremy muttered awkwardly. “They’re going to want to know.”

Michael turned irritably to him, pain shooting up his legs at the quick movement. “I don’t—“ he paused, forced to lean back on the bars to support himself. “You don’t answer to me here. Get lost for all I care.”

Michael watched as Jeremy uncomfortably made his way down towards the end of the hallway. He turned back towards the dragon as the other shut the door to the hall, sitting down painfully on the ground.

“He’s probably dead.” He called down to her.

“…He can’t be dead.” The dragon finally replied, a surprising strength in her voice for someone in her situation. Michael could see the way that she seemed to be trapped between a human and a dragon, and for reasons that could only have been caused by the Vagabond.

“What did he do to you?” He asked finally, deciding that this was probably the answer to the situation and her condition.

“To me?” She seemed taken aback by his question, and he watched, vaguely horrified as he realized that the scales that covered her skin weren’t simply stationary, instead shifting as she spoke into parts that were vaguely more dragon like from the human state, and then back, as she seemed to debate his question.

“He helped me.” She finally answered, “And I helped him. I mean, it’s as simple as that, really.”

The clatter of the door opening down at the end of the hall drew his attention away from the dragon again, and Michael noted the return of Jeremy, Gavin, and an assorted group of other nobles. Of course they’d trust Gavin with this, allow him to observe the dragon or whatever she was and they’d leave him here, imprisoned like he’d done something to betray the kingdom and its royalty.

They’d never trusted him, and this seemed to be no different than any other situation that he’d been in before.

* * *

Ryan gratefully folded the clothes he’d been wearing before, grateful for the fact that the man at the tavern had been willing to sell them a new set, albeit for a somewhat exorbitant price. These were clean and somewhat worn, but would be infinitely better than the bloodstained ones that he’d been wearing before. Ray had given him the privacy that he needed, and now, done with what he’d needed to do, he stowed his bloodstained clothes in a worn sack, swinging it over his shoulder. The water that he’d left behind was now stained with a rust color, and he wondered for a moment what they’d think had been the cause of the color, but he supposed if Ray had managed to convince the man that he’d merely fallen off a horse before, a few well-placed words and a touch of magic would convince the man that it was the truth, and that there was nothing else to need to know.

Assuming he’d be able to use it successfully. He’d attempted to use a touch of it to keep the water hot when he’d been bathing, but it’d been difficult and nigh impossible to manipulate. Without Lindsay he was truly unable to use his once formidable power, and while his headache had eased slightly, he didn’t know what to do.

He took stock of the room one last time, making sure that he’d gathered all his belongings. All accounted for, he left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him and making his way down the stairs, entering into the main room of the tavern, spotting Ray sitting by the bar and conversing with a man sporting a ridiculously impressive mustache who seemed to be impossibly drunk, despite how early it seemed to be in the day from the light streaming in the windows.

That must be the innkeeper then, based on what Ray’d said about the man being drunk and the position he held behind the bar. Ryan approached the two, smoothly nodding at the unfamiliar man and hoping that he’d be able to avoid any probing questions through a quick exit from the mercifully empty room.

However, this didn’t seem to be the case, as the moment he saw him, the bartender squinted suspiciously in his direction.

“So you’re the fellow who fell off his horse!”

“That’d be me!” Ryan replied, turning away from the man and pointedly facing Ray. “We should be leaving, if you’re going to stick with me.”

“That was an awful lot of blood for someone who simply fell off a horse, you know!”

Ryan edged closer to Ray, whispering to him through clenched teeth.

“You said he was drunk.”

“I’m drunk, not deaf!” The man interjected.

Ryan turned to him, gritting his teeth. “My apologies.” Ray seemed to be taking all of this in with an air of mild bemusement that Ryan found highly irritating, especially given the severity of the situation.

“Care to introduce me to your friend?” He asked Ray, teeth still somewhat gritted.

“Well, sure!” Ray nodded, gesturing to the mustache man. “This is Geoff, and he’s the one who let us in last night!”

“Pretty suspicious timing, if you ask me! Coming in that late! It’s lucky for you that Ray here was out riding with you!” Geoff remarked, taking a sip of something that Ryan hoped for his sake wasn’t alcohol, but from the smell, probably was.

“It’s nothing.” Ryan stated, turning to Ray again. “We should leave.”

“You haven’t even introduced yourself yet!” The barkeep was obviously enjoying his discomfort, and Ryan debated answering truthfully for a moment, thinking about telling the man who he truly was and then leaving the tavern burning, but the ache in his head reminded him that it wouldn’t be an option to use his magic like that.

“…Ryan.” He finally answered, noting the fact that Ray picked up on his name. “We need to go.” He tugged on Ray’s arm, and the other stood up amicably.

“Bye, Geoff!” Ray chirped as Ryan tugged him towards the door. Ryan glanced back towards Geoff, seething silently, opening the door without looking to see if the way was clear only to find himself bumping into another individual as he did.

“Excuse me—“He began before he fully took in who he’d just bumped into, pausing as he did. “Jack?”

“Ryan? What’re you doing here?” The other’s tone was sharp, and Ryan tensed.

“Passing through. You?”

“Jack, he giving you any trouble?” Geoff called from over at the bar, and Ryan looked quickly between the two men.

“You know him?”

“No, he just happens to know my name. Of course I know him!” Jack retorted. “What did you think?”

“I just wondered!”

“Ryan, really. Why are you here? If you’re looking for me, you know that I want no part in any of this.”

“I’m not looking for you!” Ryan stated, exasperated. “I didn’t even mean to come here! Ray found this place!”

“Ray—“ Jack looked over where Ray was standing awkwardly, “—so you didn’t come here to find me?”

“Why would I think you’d be here?”

“Because he’s here nearly weekly, if not more.” Geoff had wandered over and inserted them into their conversation.

“Geoff!” Jack stated irritably.

“What?”

Jack stepped inside, edging past Ryan to let the door shut.

“Ryan, you can’t be here. They’re looking for you.” Jack said seriously.

“I knew it! I knew that he lied!” Geoff declared gleefully, pointing at Ray. “There’s no way that much blood came from you!”

“Blood—You’re not hurt, are you?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine.” Ryan stated pointedly, his expression turning grave as he continued. “But I can’t contact Lindsay, and I don’t know what happened to Meg.”

Jack’s expression softened at the mention of the other two, and he nodded to Geoff.

“You can trust him.”

“Don’t out me!” Geoff declared, elbowing Jack. “I’m trying to run a legitimate business here!”

“Please,” Jack began, “You know that your blood’s older than mine.”

“So you’re one of us?” Ryan curiously looked to Geoff, who’d folded his arms across his chest, a cross expression on his face.

“I’m not saying anything here!” Geoff declared, sparking a laugh from Ray.

“Really? So we tried to hide all that, and he’s one of us?” Ray stated, finally interjecting into the conversation.

“It’s not that simple.” Ryan stated. “Just because he says he is—“

“He is—“ Jack stated.

“—doesn’t mean we can trust him.” Ryan finished.

“Well, I’m saying that you can.” Jack added.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be found here.”

“You’re the Vagabond!” Geoff declared, the connection finally made in his mind.

Ryan looked to Jack. “Please tell me he’ll be able to keep a secret.”

“He knows about Caiti.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows.

“Fine—Jack. We need a way out.”

“Promise that you won’t look for me here, and I’ll get you horses.”

“Deal.”

“You’re not giving him my horses!” Geoff declared.

“They’ll be back, you know that.” Jack said pointedly. “And Ryan’ll pay for the saddles.”

“He better! And they’d better be back soon!”

“Within the week.” Ryan stated, picking up on Jack’s plan. “You’re sure they’ll be safe?”

“As safe as they can be. I’ll tell them where they need to go to come back.”

“So we’ve got a ride now?” Ray asked.

“So long as Ryan doesn’t get them hurt, yes.” Jack responded.

“Then we’ve got a deal.” Ryan stated. “How soon can we leave?”

“Geoff?” Jack asked.

Geoff sighed loudly. “Fine! My horses can be ready within the hour, but you’re saddling them yourselves.”

“Done.” Ryan replied. “Jack, listen. If you hear anything about Lindsay or Meg—“

“I’ll find a way to pass it along.”

Ryan glanced at Geoff, then Ray, then back to Jack.

“Please—if you can get inside the city—“

“Ryan, I get it.” Jack said. “Don’t worry.”

“Fine.” Ryan sighed, noting that his headache had returned in full force, pounding painfully. He turned to Ray, a thought crossing his mind. “…Can you ride?”

“Well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer is no, he can't ride.


	3. Dungeons and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Ray have made progress. Michael's stuck.

Ryan urged his horse onwards, up and over the crest of the hill, letting Ray fall behind as he crested the top, stopping to wait for the other as he looked forwards and to the ruins that could be seen in the distance. A patch of dense forest was the only thing that lay between them and the rising ruins, and the path through the forest was one that he knew well. The path was well hidden to outsiders, and one that he’d not needed to use for some time, as Lindsay’d always been willing to provide a shorter and quicker way across.

This would be as far as their horses would take them. Their saddles would be hidden well, and assuming all went according to his plan, Ryan would send someone back for the saddles later. The horses would find their own way back to Jack and Geoff thanks to the instructions that Jack had given them before they’d left, and that would be that.

The sun beat down on him as Ryan dismounted from his horse, waiting impatiently for Ray to follow. The other wasn’t accustomed to riding, and Ryan was surprised that he’d stuck with him as willingly as he had, but the other’s company was more than welcome. Their ride had been mercifully unhindered by any pursuers, something that Ryan was infinitely grateful for as his control over his magic still escaped him. It was still frustratingly absent, and his use of it was sporadic at best, and nonexistent at worst.

“Is that it?”

Ryan looked up at Ray as the other finally caught up. “It is. We’ll walk from here. It should only take an hour or so from this.”

“Thank goodness.” Ray stared at Ryan for a moment, then slipped down from his horse, nearly falling in the process of doing so. “We get to ditch the horses here, or there?”

“Here.” Ryan looped the reins on his horse over its head, leading it forwards. “We’ll hide the saddles.”

“And they’ll just find their ways back?”

“Jack’s good at what he can do. They’ll be fine.”

“Cool then.” Ray followed Ryan, and they descended to the bottom of the hill where the trees began to spread.

Ryan approached a boulder, beginning to remove his saddle from the horse, undoing the necessary buckles and straps. Ray simply watched, not bothering to attempt to imitate his actions, especially after their past few nights of traveling and how his first attempt to do so had left them both with a mess of straps that’d taken more time to rectify than it would’ve taken Ryan to remove the both of the saddles. It didn’t take long for Ryan to remove the saddle and blankets, setting them on the grass and then moving to Ray’s horse, releasing his and allowing it to wander freely. He repeated the process with Ray’s horse, glancing around before hefting the saddle up and lugging it over to a tree and stashing it underneath. Ray followed, albeit slowly, shoving the other saddle underneath, slightly out of breath when he finished.

“So where to now?”

“There.” Ryan jerked his head towards the forest. “We’ll follow a path to the ruins.”

“Alright. Your head still bad?”

“…About the same.”

Ray didn’t seem to have much to say, seemingly content to simply follow Ryan, letting him guide him through the forest, the only words that they exchanged coming when Ryan needed to offer the other instruction on how to navigate a trap. They’d very nearly made it across when Ryan froze, pausing at the sound of nearby footsteps. He gestured to Ray, motioning for him to remain silent, holding still himself as he watched and waited.

“…Ryan? Ryan!” A moment passed before another figure erupted from the trees before them, galloping forwards to skid to a stop before them. “You’re back! We didn’t have any news, and Matt said that he was sure you were fine, but still, I was worried.”

Ryan allowed himself to smile for a moment at Kerry’s energy, savoring the slight moment of happiness while he waited for the questions that he knew were to come.

“Where’s Lindsay? And Meg? Who’s he?” Kerry gestured towards Ray, who offered a feeble wave.

Well, Kerry certainly hadn’t wasted any time with pleasantries. Ryan hardened his gaze, then spoke to the other. “They didn’t make it out—I wouldn’t have, had Ray not helped.” He gestured to the other and Kerry looked to Ray, examining him as he did.

“What are you going to do to get them back?” The satyr asked.

“I think I’ve got a plan.” Ryan began slowly, noting the surprise from Ray. This wasn’t something that he’d mentioned to the other as they’d been traveling, rather an idea that’d come to him, born out of desperation and his inability to use his magic. “Someone who can help. It’ll take time to gather the offering, but he’ll help.”

“Offering…” Kerry trailed off for a moment, then looked up. “Oh, so you’re going to visit him—I mean, I always heard about him, but—That’s cool, I guess.”

“I’ll need time alone to prepare.” Ryan stated pointedly, and Kerry nodded.                   

“Got it. I’ll pass the word on that you’re back.”

“Prepare a room for Ray. He’ll be staying here when I journey onward.”

“Done.” Kerry nodded again, hurrying off towards the now visible ruins through the edge of the trees.

Ryan continued forwards after him, not noticing for a moment that Ray wasn’t following him, instead still staring after Kerry.

“He’s…” Ray began, trailing off, pointing at Kerry. “There’s others like us here? But more like, on the really magic end of things?”

It took Ryan a moment to process what Ray meant, and when he did he realized what he’d forgotten to mention to the other.

“We gather here. There’s safety in numbers, and the area’s fairly well protected. Most of us who come here are those who’d be hunted elsewhere, and they’re safe here.”

“So you’ve probably got what, like six dragons then?”

“…No, that’s not what I meant.” Ryan paused, trying to decide how to best explain the situation to the other. “Most creatures like that, with that much power, still live in the wild, farther in on the continent. I’ve contacted some, but most with those abilities are content to wait and hide. The ones that come here, like Kerry, are those that’d be easily hunted.”

“So you don’t have any secret hidden allies that’ll break you into the castle and let you rescue whoever you were with?”

“No, none with that amount of power who’d be willing to help.” Ryan replied.

“But you have a plan?”

“There’s a power, one of the creatures who’s older than the others—who I honestly don’t know the origin of—who could help. He’s been willing enough to assist before, and I don’t see why this’ll be any different.”

“So you’ll go to him, or whatever.”

“I will.” Ryan nodded.

“And I’m good to stay here? Free?” Ray asked. Ryan noted how the other seemed to have closed off, unsure of what to do now.

“You are, if that’s what you want. I’ll be here for a few days before I set out again at most, and I’ll find someone to help you settle in.”

 “Thanks, I guess.” Ray remarked, moving forwards to the ruins slowly. “Am I good to wander?”

“I assume so. I’ll instruct Kerry to tell spread word of why you’re here.”

“Will they know what I am?”

Ryan pondered that question for a moment. Knowing that a necromancer had joined them would be a boost to the likely low morale after what’d happened, and one that’d be needed.

“Yes. I’ll tell Kerry that as well.”

“…Fine, I guess.”

“Good then.” Ryan moved forwards, purposefully passing Ray. “You’ll find others. I’ll send Kerry to find you.” He needed to begin to gather what he would need for the offering, and the process would be difficult, but not impossible. The needed items would likely be found in the ruins, but possibly hidden away in one of his caches from past years.

“Bye then.” Ryan heard Ray mutter behind him, but he pressed onwards, his mind occupied with the task at hand.

…

Michael stood slowly, staring forward as he did, ignoring the strain in the muscles of his leg as his wounds rejected his movement as he paced the space around him. The familiar anger bubbled through his veins as he glared out at the guard, Jeremy gone for now, ignoring the looks of pity that the current guard gave him, forcing himself to walk faster and increasing his pace to something that he could have once easily kept, but that now caused more pain than he would ever be willing to admit. This was a farce, their actions, why he’d been imprisoned, and everything that existed here. Gavin hadn’t bothered to try to visit him for a few days—he knew better than to do so, already knew what Michael’s reactions would be to such an act. All of them did, and they all knew what his reactions would be. 

She merely sat, waiting, when he finally turned his attention to her, sitting down with an angry sigh, but at his presence she shifted slightly, turning to face him through the bars, nodding slightly. Michael ignored the look of pain on her face as she moved, choosing to ignore the way the scales on her skin moved, shifting in a way that he knew she insisted was beyond her control.

Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes, but in the end, she was the one to begin the conversation, far more willing to talk than she’d originally been.

“When you were out and they tried to heal you, Gavin visited me, of all people.”

Michael could see the effort that it took her to keep her voice bright in how the scales shifted, hardening over dirty skin, causing her to wince. He told himself that he didn’t care if it hurt her. She didn’t care who she’d hurt. He didn’t need to care if she hurt.

“Really. He’d visit you.” He finally replied.

“Y’know, it was something about my evil powers, some yelling about how I’d ruined you, like it was my fault that you attacked me. I think he still wants them to kill me.”

“He does.”

“Why haven’t they?”

“The Vagabond’s still out there.”

“…At least you’ll tell me that now.”

“Hiding it from you doesn’t do much.” Michael grumbled, flicking a pebble from where he sat watching her. The one victory he would grant her was the fact that if nothing else, he was willing to tell her if the notorious Mage hadn’t been sighted or found in the time since the attack, even if their own spies had only heard mentions of him in passing. Maybe she’d slip up, tell him something about where he was or his motivations—or so he reminded himself whenever he was forced to question his motivations for speaking with her.

“Has he done anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed at that. Again, Michael chose to ignore her reactions

Neither spoke for a few more minutes, then again, she continued the conversation.

“Have they found a way to fix what I did to you yet?”

Michael ignored the wistfulness in her voice as she spoke, the way that the magic in her betrayed her emotions and thoughts. As much as it might have kept her alive this long—her sometimes unwilling transparency—he wished at times that she was able to control her transformations, to remain as the monster who’d injured him.

It was harder, he found, to find a way to hate someone when you understood them.

“No.”

He should be angry—he should be furious, he should be calling for her death with the rest of them, insisting that she be destroyed before she could harm more than she already had, but her story was plain. Without the Vagabond, she was a threat, but hardly the one that she’d been with him, and after the disappearance of Jinx, she was the only one who the Vagabond could trust who they had any control over. Meg had plainly explained to them the terms of her giving them any information and the possible consequences, and as Michael had learned after the fact of it all, Gavin and the other royals had been more than willing to accept her deal of information in exchange for allowing the two captives to live. The dragon, he’d also discovered, had been less willing to share anything, but still, so long as such a creature was captive and could be kept as such, they weren’t going to kill her. Probably a stupid decision, but as Michael had learned, the capture and ensuing captivity of the Vagabond’s dragon seemed to have been something that they were willing to throw lives away for.

“He—Vagabond—would know a way to fix what I did.” There was no shame from her as she spoke, only the same persistent and ever-present devotion.

Michael let out a bitter laugh at that comment, making sure to meet her eyes as he did.

“You think that I’d let that fucking freak close to me? After what he caused—after what you did?”

She wasn’t cowed by his reaction.

“I’m just saying that he could! He knows how to use the magic—he’d be able to help.”

Whenever she talked about the Vagabond, her eyes shone. Their captive dragon would regain her resolve at the thought of the individual who’d been the cause of more deaths than any other in the kingdom, and for her sake, it made him sick.

Something was wrong with all of this—the betrayal, the fact that he knew that she would have been hunted and killed or imprisoned or worse without the Vagabond, and the fact that he honestly didn’t know if that was bad or a good anymore, or if he trusted what she said or not, if all of her actions were an act created to inspire sympathy, or if they were true. This was only worsened by the fact that he knew that what she spoke of—the mistreatment of those with the old blood—was true and accurate. Hell, he’d seen it himself in his own life by no fault of his own, a distrust that he knew was rooted in the fact that his mother had been of the old blood, and the barest of abilities that were attributed to that connection.

He didn’t know, and that hurt him, perhaps even more than the injury that’d been caused by the Dragon herself that still plagued him. The Vagabond was the root of this, truly. He was the cause of the problems that plagued the kingdom, the reason that so many were dead and so many more lived in fear, and perhaps even part of the cause for some of the distrust towards those of the old blood.

The one thing that he wasn’t the cause of was Michael’s current imprisonment, trapped with someone who was worse than a traitor because of his disobedience to an advisor to the king. He’d done his part to serve them in the past, done whatever it took to prove his loyalty, and at times it’d been good, but more often than not, it’d fell apart and he’d found himself doubted and shunned, cursed by the fact of his blood and how it connected him to the old kingdom. They truly wouldn’t trust him, it seemed, and this event only served to further prove that point. Gavin had told him enough during one of his visits, and that’d been the last time that Michael had agreed to speak with him.

Michael was dangerous to them, and he knew that. The abilities of a berserker were those that made him better than the other soldiers and guards, but the same that prevented him from ever achieving true knighthood due to that connection with the old blood. When he’d seen Gavin fall there on the battlefield, he’d slipped up, triggered into a rage that couldn’t possibly have been prevented by Lawrence. He knew that they’d been trying to keep him back and protect him, but they hadn’t been willing to tell them of the information that they’d gained and received. Again, they’d refused to trust him, and he’d been trapped in the situation he now was, reminded of the worth that they placed on him.

What if they truly were wrong? The information that Meg had supposedly shared, rumors passed to him by Jeremy—even after all that had happened and the duress that she’d shared it under, she still maintained that equality was the only request of the creatures that he’d sought to destroy, with perhaps the exception of the Vagabond himself.

The door at the end of the hall creaked open and Michael turned slowly, glaring at Gavin as he saw him enter the hall.

“What?” Gavin asked, having at least the slightest amount of shame needed to look embarrassed. “We have a plan. They want you to help.”

“So they sent you.” Michael continued to glare as he stood slowly, making his way towards to door of the cell, wincing as he did.

“Yeah. Me.” Gavin still looked embarrassed, but Michael didn’t intend to show him any mercy. “They sent me to get you out.”

The guard at the door seemed to have known about this, and moved to unlock it, allowing it to open slowly. Gavin amazingly had the sense to not attempt to help him as he moved slowly towards it, something Michael was grateful for and not the slightest bit regretful about. He ignored the way that the dragon was staring at him as he moved to the door.

Once the door swung shut they both moved along the hall, Gavin awkwardly slowed his own pace to match Michael’s, continuing.

“They have a plan to find him. Vagabond, I mean. With what Meg’s told us, we should be able to make it work and flush him out.”

“Good to see that you trust her so much now.”

“It’s our only chance.” Gavin looked uncharacteristically somber. “You know what he’s done.”

“Yeah Gavin, I’ve heard rumors. Unless you’re forgetting that they don’t tell me shit here unless I’m the one they need to fight. I don’t get why you’re suddenly telling me whatever Meg’s been saying, or why you’d trust her and not me.”

Gavin let out a squawk of irritation, glaring at Michael. “You talk to the Dragon, and you’re telling me that? You’re telling me?”

“I don’t trust her. I’m only talking. Not like I’ve had any other options.”

“Oh, and that’s why you don’t want her dead.”

Michael stopped walking, forcing Gavin to stop as well.                                                                                                                                                                        

“What do they want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why’re they telling me things again? I thought that they were still assuming that I wasn’t worth trusting and were keen to let me rot.”

“They need Mogar.” Michael let out a growl, turning away from Gavin, hobbling onwards and continuing down the hall. “They’re the reason for all of this—I can’t be him now, and they all fucking know that.”

“Listen. They need him—they need you—I need you—your help!”

The desperation in Gavin’s voice as he followed after him stirred something in Michael, but again, he reminded himself of their betrayal of his trust, and just what he was to them—a tool. A monster to be called upon when they needed something to intimidate their rivals, someone for the people to cower before.

“What do they need me to do?”

“They’re going to kill the Dragon. Make a scene and flush him out. You’re a symbol, and they need you. ”

“They’d kill her?” That surprised Michael more than anything—a captive dragon, even one as inept with her powers as she seemed to be was a captive that they wouldn’t let slip through their grasp. She was their chance to find way to fight against the old blood, a thing to be tortured until they found what they needed—and Meg. Meg had tried to secure her safety along with her own, and that, if nothing else, would worry Gavin, if he was as trusting as he seemed.

“They won’t.” Gavin paused. “You will. That’s why they want Mogar. If you kill her—if they see you do that, then they can say that you’re still fine, that we’re winning.”

“And they think that’ll bring the Vagabond here.”

“From what Meg said about him, yeah, it might.”

“From what Meg said.” Michael felt his disgust slip into his voice, his frustration at the confusion that he knew Gavin himself would be feeling if he had any sense whatsoever, that he had to know that Meg couldn’t be trusted—that none of the creatures who had the power to use magic could be trusted.

“Meg’s not that bad—she’s just trying to help them all—“

“Just trying to help? Do you remember how many they killed before we tried to stop them? Because I sure as hell do.” Michael grabbed Gavin’s arms in his own, forcing the man to face and look at him. “Look at what they did to me. At least I’m not stupid enough to trust them—Gavin, for once, could you not be a fucking idiot?” He shoved the other man away, glaring at him.

Gavin followed, making sure to keep out of his reach. Michael ignored the guilty twitch that he felt when he saw how Gavin stayed away, instead telling himself that he was in the right, and that this was the way that things needed to be.

“Michael.” Gavin’s voice was softer now, and he seemed to be speaking with a caution that Michael couldn’t remember hearing in his voice for the longest of time. “We have to do this. “

Michael sighed. Stared at Gavin.

“Fine. Mogar will be there.”

Gavin nodded.

“Good. I’ll tell them, and we can get you the information that you need, and then—“

“I’ll kill her. I’ll finish what I started, but that’s all. If I can’t be trusted—if you don’t trust me with everything, then don’t trust me with this. They didn’t trust Mogar, and I don’t want this as some sort of apology for what’s happened.”

Gavin wilted somewhat, but nodded, waiting as if he wanted Michael to say something else, but when Michael said nothing he straightened up and continued.

“Jeremy’s going to be assigned to guard you till it’s over.”

Michael laughed at that.

“Him? You’re kidding? If they don’t trust me, then he’s not going to be able to stop anything.”

“Think of it as a compromise.” Gavin said pleadingly. “C’mon. Jeremy’s not that bad.”

“Sure he isn’t.”

Michael knew that they wouldn’t trust him, even when he did kill the dragon, and that rankled him. Why had he felt the need to stick out his neck for Gavin? It’d been stupid, and the other was hardly grateful. The injuries that he’d sustained in the process that refused to heal and he knew from the whispers of the guards that he wasn’t the only one who’d been injured as such.

Gavin didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he merely continued to lead Michael down the halls, moving till they reached the familiar sight of the infirmary, the only place he’d visited other than the cells since the incident.

He sat down heavily when they did enter the room, wincing unwillingly as he did so. With the mages who’d been pressed into service gone, there wasn’t much that could be done, especially with how the wounds seemed to be unable to be healed by non-magical methods.  He sat there, staring forward for a moment before hearing another knock at the door, followed by Jeremy entering.

 “Shit, man. You look like crap.”

“Jeremy!” Michael exclaimed, turning to glare at the other.

“They sent me to, you know.”

Gavin seemed to be trying to slip out, unnoticed, and Michael ignored him as he did. Let him think that he was getting out of this.

“They sent you.”

“I think they’re afraid.”

“Figures.” Michael growled irritably. Truly, he didn’t have anything against the shorter man, and Jeremy was less obnoxious than some of the others that could’ve been assigned to follow him.

Jeremy nodded, shrugging.

“Did Gavin already tell you what’s happened?”

“I’m killing the dragon.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows raised at that comment.

“Like, now?”

“Shut up. Eventually. ”

“Fine, fine.” Jeremy nodded one last time, awkwardly leaning against the wall.

Michael knew that he really didn’t have a reason to be angry at him, but that didn’t make a difference. Jeremy couldn’t be trusted till he knew more, about what the other had known, and he didn’t have any desire to talk with him, and he certainly wasn’t going to express any doubts to him about the Dragon or anything that’d taken place. Still, when the time came, he’d kill her, and that would tie all of this up neatly, with the exception of him and his own injuries. That’d leave them with him, and he doubted that he’d be allowed to fight after what he’d done, justified or not, and he doubted that he’d be able to do so as he now was.

Someone was in the wrong here, and somehow he himself had begun to further doubt what that might be, something that scared him more than he dared to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll update again next Tuesday.  
> Also, I'm laughing really hard at the chapter title, because it's really pretty accurate to what's taking place currently in the story.


	4. Interlude One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg's in a pickle, and someone surprising seems to want to help.

Meg stared at the woman who’d just started to ramble on to her, suspicious at the others conversation—both for the fact that the other was actually talking to her, and secondly, for the fact that the knight who’d entered the room with her hadn’t done much more than glare at Meg threateningly before allowing the woman to speak. The conversation simply wasn’t adding up with what she knew, and while the other wasn’t giving away anything that had yet been told to her, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t a shock. 

They didn’t trust her, she knew that, but she was their sole source of information. She’d told them why they’d come to the castle, but they’d not been surprised at why. She’d been locked in here, alone except for their frequent questions and the one visit she’d had to see Lindsay to be assured that the other was alive. At this point, she was unsure exactly how long she’d been there, sitting and waiting.

The woman who was waiting for Meg to respond to her last statement was someone who she’d been taught to hate from birth—someone who opposed everything that she stood for—who opposed her very existence, but yet here she was before her—the Queen, and she was waiting to see if Meg would respond and tell her if she’d been treated fairly since she’d arrived.

Meg didn’t know what to say. The knight who still stood by the queen had placed a careful hand on her arm, gesturing back towards the door.

“Elyse—I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

“No. I said that I was going to talk to her, so I’m doing that now.” The Queen seemed to choose her words carefully, and Meg noted the familiarity between her and the knight. To call the queen by her name—that wasn’t something that anyone would be allowed to do.

“I’ve been fine, all things considered.” Meg finally said, straightening up and pasting a forcedly polite expression on her face in place of the surprise that she was sure had been on it only moments before. “It’s not perfect, but that’s no surprise.”

“Yeah.” The Queen nodded at her, and again, Meg found herself more than slightly shocked at the other’s casual actions. “Are you…” The queen paused again, looking like she didn’t know what to say. “They said that you weren’t human.”

Meg sighed, shifting uneasily. It always came to this, and she doubted that the Queen's interest was genuine and assumed it was rooted in manipulation.  If anything, this could help her if the other was genuine. If not, she wouldn’t be foolish enough as to reveal anything to them. She'd been forced to already illustrate the most basic of her abilities to reassure them, so this would be nothing more.

“I’m not.” She finally said, nodding to the Queen, preparing herself for a request of a demonstration of what she was able to do.

The Queen exchanged a careful look with the knight. “Adam. If you’re going to deny this, then you should go.” She nodded to him.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.” The knight said, and Meg was again forced to wonder at the naivety of the woman, thinking that she’d be safe alone in the same room as someone who’d come to assist in killing her.

The Queen straightened up slightly at his response, then nodded to him, forcing a casual smile. “That’s all I need to know.”

The knight turned, moving to stand by the door, leaving Meg to sit across from the Queen, Meg nonplussed. Meg was still a danger—something that they should all have known. She could easily end the life of the woman across from her, something that she’d not have hesitated to do before she’d been put in this situation, but with Lindsay as she was, there wasn’t truly anything that she could do—she needed to cooperate so long as the other was injured and captured. Honestly, she’d thought that Lindsay wouldn’t have been caught, especially if Ryan was still here. The fact that he’d disappeared shouldn’t have prevented her from escaping, or from at the very least disguising herself as a human and hiding, but without further knowledge or actually seeing Lindsay, she couldn’t know. She simply didn’t understand the reason that they’d been able to capture the dragon at all. It didn’t make sense that they’d be able to capture her, and Meg knew that even gravely injured, Lindsay couldn’t be stopped.  Meg’s own capture hadn’t been completely accidental, and she didn’t understand how they could’ve been prevented from their target.

Meg easily recalled what Ryan had told her about the Queen. She’d been their target, as her death would help them and their cause. The Queen was an outsider as much as any of them would have been in the castle, from a far off country and married to the man she was as a result of what seemed to be a merely political marriage.  Her death would harm the King’s relations with his and her homes, but ultimately Ryan had declared that her lack of connection with the people would be her doom in the end.

In the room with her now, Meg was reminded of the lack of knowledge of the Queen that came with the fact that she’d never been able to truly interact with the people. The woman before her was someone she knew little about, and she in turn didn’t know what this conversation would bring about.

“Listen.” The Queen spoke quietly. “I don’t like this—any of it, really.”

“Really.” Meg stated skeptically.

“Really.” The queen continued, seemingly conflicted. “I don’t think that we need to hurt you—or any of them.”

“And you expect me to believe you? Or any of this?”

“No…” The queen began hesitantly. “But you need to, and I need you to listen. They’re going to kill his dragon.”

“They can’t.” Meg stood abruptly, ignoring the other’s reaction. “They need the information I have—and they won’t get it if she’s gone.”

“They don’t care about information. They want the Vagabond.” The Queen stood, shifting tensely.

Meg glared at the other, clenching her hands into fists. “They can’t have him. When I surrendered, they agreed that I’d be safe here, and they said that they wouldn’t kill any of them if they captured them. They said—“

“They lied.” The Queen quietly interrupted. “I mean, what did you expect?”

“Then they won’t be able to keep me here.”

Meg glared at the Queen, sizing the other up. Without Lindsay, they really couldn’t keep her here. They wouldn’t be able to. It’d only be a matter of time, but they’d slip up, and without Lindsay they’d have no insurance to be sure that she’d cooperate.

The Queen took a deep breath, then exhaled, speaking quickly and quietly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here then, if they aren’t willing to negotiate.”

This was new, and fascinating. Meg stared at the other, softening her tone before she spoke again.

“I’d call that sympathy if I didn’t think that it was something you were capable of.”

“You’re not the only outsider here.”

“So you really didn’t want to be here.” Meg began incredulously.

“I do.”

“And the King?”

A look of confusion settled on the Queen’s face. “I love him.”

“And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because he’s not always right. I know that.”

Ryan would have killed for this information. He had, before, unsuccessfully. Meg knew that.

“Can you help her? Lindsay?”

“The Dragon?” Meg nodded to her. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

Meg reminded herself that she couldn’t trust this woman, and had no reason to do so despite her word—something that she couldn’t put much value in. Still, she had her own spies—individuals who she alone could trust. They’d be able to help her get some word to Ryan, let him know more of what had happened. If Lindsay’s life was truly in danger, then he’d need to know that there could be traitors in their ranks.

A knock on the door silenced their conversation, the Knight by it shaking his head. “Elyse. You need to get going. Bruce’ll have stalled all he could at this point.”

“Fine.” The Queen nodded again to Meg. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.” Meg nodded to the other, watching as she turned to leave the room, the Knight following her once she’d exited without another word to Meg, leaving her to sit again, alone in the room.

…

"Dick move, James."

"Bruce. Come on, it was a great idea. Just look at her! She's all worried now, and Elyse did great."

Bruce shook his head at the other man, crossing his arms over his chest.

“James, really.”

“C’mon, Bruce! She’d’ve wanted to help, but this is how we’ve gotta do this. The word’ll get to him, and then we’ll have him.”

The door across the room swung open, Adam entering, holding open the door to allow a shorter man to enter before letting it close behind him. 

“It’s done.”

“Good.” James nodded to them, then turned to the shorter man. “Peake! Any luck finding a fix?”

His enthusiasm was met only with a scowl. “I’ve told you, I can’t solve that problem.”

“Well, I need my executioner to be healthy and ready as soon as possible, so you’ve got till about the end of the week then to fix him up!”

Peake let out an irritated grunt. “I told you, I can’t help him. You know that I’m not a healer, and they’re all gone.”

“But you’re supposed to be the best with magic! You know why you’re here!”

Adam strayed from the conversation, but Bruce picked up on the tone, nodding. “Yeah, we’ve gotta listen to Matt Peake! Never know when he’s going to spill some wisdom.”

“I hate you both.”

“Now, Peake, is that any way to talk to your King?” James chimed in.

Peake glanced towards Adam, who’d now completely removed himself from the discussion and resigned himself to the conversation that was about to take place. Again.

Such was life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing new characters hello there


	5. Jinx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's still frustrated. Jeremy's curious. Ryan's ready to do what he needs to do.

“You know I’ve got to tell them that you’re going down to see her?” Jeremy asked, trailing a few feet behind Michael. “Like, they’re already suspicious as it is.”

Michael ignored Jeremy, continuing forwards and down, taking note of how no one they passed would meet his gaze completely. Let them ignore him, treat him like an outcast. Before this, he had assumed that in their own time they’d come to see him honestly and trust him, no matter what his blood was, but he refused to bow to them and their will. He’d kill the dragon, but what happened past that was dependent on what they did and said. He’d be their figurehead for the people to see for that much longer, and then he’d do whatever it took, be that leaving and starting out on his own, or staying if they could find a way to prove to him that there truly was a place for him here.

He finally reached the passageway that he intended to take, limping along with Jeremy trailing after him. It was simultaneously harder and easier to walk now, the pain something that he could manage, but the effort of consistently doing so was wearing him down. Getting up this morning had taken far more effort than he wanted to admit, and he hoped that no one else had noticed the toll that it was taking on him.

The dragon was still in her cell, and he approached her as casually as he could, debating his options for a fraction of a moment before he sat down on the ground outside the cell, wincing as he did. There wasn’t any sense in staying standing, and the thought of remaining up through the entire conversation, however long or short it might be, was one that he wasn’t going to consider.

“Hey.” He stated once he was settled, ignoring Jeremy’s tense stance behind him. “No news on the Vagabond.”

“Good.” She looked up, nodding to him. “They won’t find him.”

She didn’t seem as confident as she had before, but she seemed to still be trying her hardest to continue believing that the Vagabond was infallible. Michael rolled his eyes at this, pushing away his own doubts.

“Have they told you anything about Meg?”

“No.” The dragon said. “They won’t tell me. Is she okay?”

“I haven’t seen her, but I’m assuming that she is from what I’ve heard.”

“Good.” That seemed to satisfy her.

“Do you think you know where the Vagabond would’ve went?”

The dragon didn’t say anything for a moment, frowning when she did. “I’m not telling you that.”

“So you do.”

“Probably. I’m not telling that for anything.”

“They don’t care what you know.”

“Really? And I thought that they wanted a dragon, I don’t know, for the information I might have. You’re sure that they don’t—“ She paused, closing her eyes for a moment as her scales shifted slightly. “—You’re sure that they don’t need me?”

“They’re going to execute you.”

“Sure they are.” She opened her eyes, and Michael noticed how unfocused that they looked now.

“It doesn’t matter if you think that they will or not, they’re going to kill you.” He left out the fact that he’d be the one who would be doing the killing. She didn’t need that information.

“Why do you help him?”

Michael glanced behind him at Jeremy’s question, surprised by the fact that the other would interject or risk being seen talking to the dragon.

“Because he’s the one who’s going to save us.” The dragon regained the look he well remembered from their previous conversations when she’d spoke about the Vagabond and his possible goals, one that was filled with hope, only slightly dampened by the events that had taken place.

“Right.” Michael interjected loudly. “Because that’s why he keeps killing.”

“Sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better.” Lindsay offered.

“But really—“ Jeremy spoke again, focusing more on the conversation. “—how is he going to make things better?”

“Make things safe again.”

“Things’re safer without him.” Michael said. “He’s the one doing the killing.”

“Really?” The dragon asked. “You think that I’d be safer without him?”

“I mean, you wouldn’t be stuck like this.” Michael said pointedly.

“Yes, I would be.” She countered, meeting his gaze. “He’s the reason I’m able to be anything but this.”

“So you’re saying that you couldn’t be the dragon without him?” Jeremy piped in, genuinely curious.

“I’m saying that things are better with him. You think that they’d let something like me exist?”

“Well, you haven’t really shown that you’re anything that should exist.” Michael stated cruelly.

“So you’re saying that I, someone who only ever wanted to exist peacefully, should be killed and hunted because I exist?” The dragon said. “If I’d went to them here, told them that I wanted to be able to live and work here, I’d’ve been killed—or worse.”

“But that doesn’t mean that what the Vagabond does is right.” Jeremy countered. “He’s hurt people.”

“He does what he needs to so things can be better. He sees us as people, and that’s more than anything anyone else here can say.”

“I see you as a person.” Michael threw out.

“Then what’s my name? What really am I? Am I anything more than a monster?”

“What’s your name?” Jeremy asked.

The dragon hesitated for a moment, then nodded to Jeremy, meeting his eyes. “Lindsay. Who’re you?”

“Jeremy.”

“Think about this, and what he’s trying to do. The Vagabond wants to make things better, not worse, but he can’t do that peacefully.”

“I think I’m done here.” Michael said, anger sparking in his stomach, standing, stumbling as he did.

“You really think that he’d help?” Jeremy was still trying to ask, but Michael continued onwards, moving away from the dragon—Lindsay—knowing that he’d follow shortly. The other wouldn’t shirk in his duty.

* * *

Ryan tucked the worn book away in his pack, having wrapped it carefully. That’d make up a third of his offering, the last that he’d needed to find. It’d been tucked safely away, a treasure in its own right due to its age and the spells recorded in it. All that was left was for him to gather rations for the road, and then he’d be ready to leave, rest continuing to elude him. The headaches had yet to stop, and while the smaller uses of his magic had begun to succeed, it wasn’t enough. He needed more power for this, and he needed the knowledge that he’d require to gain it.

He stepped away from the pack, turning to begin to pace the room. He’d mercifully received word from his other contacts that those of the old blood who’d been in the castle as servants and slaves had indeed been freed by Meg, but without word from Jinx or any others, he didn’t have a way of discovering what had happened. Jack hadn’t attempted to send any messages, and so he was forced to wait.

Jinx should have tried to contact him by now, to say something or anything to reassure him that he was safe, and the lack of communication from her or Meg was maddening.

 Ryan made another circuit of his study, impatiently debating what to do. Perhaps he should continue his investigation of the Necromancer—that would be something to do, but he knew that he needed to simply gather his rations and prepare to leave in the morning.

A knock on the door mercifully interrupted his pacing, and he gathered himself before he answered it, straightening up. Kerry looked up at him as he opened the door, slightly out of breath as he forced his words out.

“Jack’s here—He’s with Ashley—Jinx—and there’s someone else, too.”

“Ashley?” Ryan strode from the room, pack and plans momentarily forgotten as the other quickly led him onwards. “Kerry. Why is she here? And Jack?”

“I don’t know.” Kerry looked nervously back at Ryan, fingers twisted nervously in a lock of fur that grew from his hips.  “They just got here—and you told me to come find you if I saw anything.”

Ryan didn’t respond for a moment.  Kerry was honest—he wouldn’t be able to deceive Ryan, that was sure. If he said that he didn’t know anything, then that was the truth. Ashley would tell him what had happened, why she was here alone, why she was here at all—she hadn’t been aware of their current location since she’d left—a necessity with her dangerous position as spy. She’d done well to find Jack, and as much as the other man complained about Ryan at times Jack did understand his cause, and Ryan knew that he had his place. This served to prove that.

“Ryan.” Kerry interrupted the silence, nervously slowing his pace to glance at the other. “You should know who’s with them—Jack said that it was okay, but you should know—“

“Spit it out.”

“Well, you see, Ashley brought someone—well, not just someone, but more like—“

“Kerry.” Ryan’s voice darkened with irritation.

“Okay! She brought someone—a knight—with them.”

Ryan pushed his anger at Kerry’s revelation down, fists clenching for a fraction of a moment before he regained control of his emotions. Ashley wasn’t a fool—if she’d bring someone here, she knew what she was doing—her life would be forfeit if what she’d done to harm them was by discovered those of the new kingdom. One with a record such as hers couldn’t be wiped clean, no matter who she provided to them. Besides, one knight couldn’t be a threat—Ryan knew that.  This would be simple.

“I trust that she wouldn’t be so foolish as to bring an enemy here—nor would Jack.”

“Good.” Kerry relaxed slightly at that, speeding his pace again. “They’re still outside—Matt and Miles are with them. I told them I’d go find you.”

“I’ll speak with Ashley alone.”

“I’ll get Jack to talk with the Knight, then.”

“Good.” Ryan strode forwards and out of the shelter of the ruins, moving to see the sight of Ashley standing by Jack and an unfamiliar figure. Ashley looked harried—worn—he could see that, and his worry deepened, if such a thing was possible. Jack looked irritable, and the man who Kerry has described as a knight seemed to be attempting to take in the entire scene. From the weapons that Ryan could see, he would say that the man indeed had some degree of power or wealth—he was well equipped.

“Ryan—“ Ashley hurried towards him the moment she saw his figure, striding forwards to give him a quick embrace. “You got out? Jack said that you must have, but we weren’t sure till now—“

“Ashley.” Ryan spoke her name gently, carefully prying her away from him, noting the suspicious glare from the knight. “What happened? Where are Lindsay and Meg?”

“They knew? I don’t know.” Her nervousness was made evident in how she shifted, turning back to glance to the knight and Jack. “I only just got out. I don’t know if I could have without Burnie’s help.”

“What about Lindsay and Meg?” Ryan repeated his words urgently.

Ashley shifted at his question, looking again to the knight—Burnie—and Ryan turned to stare to the other man.

“Meg—“ Ashley paused again, and Ryan saw the conflicted expression on her face as she planned what she would say next.  “Meg wasn’t there to help Lindsay. Burnie was the one who helped me to get out. He should tell you what happened—I honestly don’t understand why she did it. I don’t get it.”

“Ashley.” Ryan gently took the other’s hands in his own. He had no intentions of trusting the knight—he’d hear this from Ashley. “What happened?”

“Well,” Ashley glanced to Burnie again, then back to Ryan. “I think—and so does Burnie—that Meg told them.”

Ryan stopped—froze. His expression turned cold, and he released Ashley’s hands, turning to the knight, fury bubbling under the surface of his gaze.

“What happened.”

“Ashley. You okay?” The knight ignored Ryan, moving towards Ashley.

“Burnie—I’m fine.” She nodded to him quickly, and Ryan didn’t miss anything that passed between them, or how Jack was casually edging away from the growing tension of the conversation. Matt and Kerry were still lurking and listening, and Ryan regretted that he hadn’t been able to take this somewhere more private.

“I don’t recall inviting you here.” Ryan spoke again, furrowing his brows at the man. “If you’re here—even with her,” he nodded to Ashley, “then you’ll answer my questions.”

“Like hell I will.” The other man muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. Ashley flashed Ryan an apologetic glance, then turned to Burnie.

“Burnie. Really—we can trust Ryan.”

“Ash, I’m not trusting him. I’m not trusting the Vagabond.” He spat out the words. “I’m here because I trust you. Not for _him_.”

“Then tell me what happened again.” Ashley asked him plaintively.

The knight’s gaze softened at her request, and he begrudgingly turned to Ryan.

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for her, but if she says that she trusts you—then I’ll give you that.” Before Ryan could respond Burnie continued. “The water spirit—Meg. The soldiers caught her— and they stopped the dragon. I don’t know how. They would have killed it, and probably should have after how many it killed—but Meg stopped them. Bargained her own surrender to protect it and traded information. Ash—Meg called her Jinx—I think was part of that trade. That’s what they told us when they sent us to take her in.”

Ryan froze at his words. Meg couldn’t have betrayed them, wouldn’t have done that. She’d never betray them, and Ryan knew that she had to understand their cause as well as he did. If she’d been captured alone, she’d be able to escape unless they truly understood her powers, which he greatly doubted. Lindsay’s fate, however, wasn’t one that he liked to consider, especially with their connection seemingly broken.

“You said they stopped the dragon.” Ryan’s voice was tense as he began to phrase his question, attempting not to reveal too much. “It was still alive?”

“It’s hurt, but alive.” Burnie said irritably. “Not on the advice of anyone sensible. They should have killed it with what happened.”

Ryan felt relief flood over him at the news of his companions’ temporary safety, overriding his irritation at Burnie’s dismissive words. Lindsay was alive, if nothing else, and while Meg could be presumed to be a traitor, Ryan would allow himself to be convinced that she’d at least bought herself and Lindsay temporary safety with her actions until he received further information that indicated otherwise.  Those at the castle who had tried to harm them would have to be stopped—to be killed. This news sealed their fates, what would happen and what he would sacrifice to end all of this.

Burnie was muttering something to Ashley, but Ryan paid him no mind when he spoke next, finally vocalizing his plan.

“I’m going to the Oracle.”

An irritated look crossed Ashley’s face as he spoke, and she turned from Burnie to face him, hands on her hips.

“You’d visit him.”

Ryan was glad that this, if nothing else seemed to make her take in the severity of the situation.

“He’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t like him—Meg didn’t either. You shouldn’t rely on what he said.”

“Lindsay did. And Meg didn’t really mind him.”

“And look where that got Lindsay.” Ashley retorted sarcastically. “And you, for that matter.”

“We were both willing, and the Oracle didn’t really actually do anything—he just told us how to do what we did.”

“Sure, so that explains it all.”

“There was a Necromancer.”

That statement did seem to shock Ashley, and she paused, frowning slightly.

Burnie rolled his eyes from where he stood behind Ashley, sulking at his sudden lack of attention. “You’re talking about Ray.”

Ryan nodded, and looking to Burnie.

“The idiot from the castle. They thought you killed him.”

“And you knew about this as well?” Ashley asked Burnie.

“I wasn’t at the castle to scrub floors. I know things too, you know.”

“What do you know about him?” Ryan asked, speaking earnestly to Burnie for the first time.

“He’s an idiot. Wouldn’t use his powers unless they made him, which is probably a good thing, honestly. Imagine if he was like you.”

Ryan ignored the dig at himself, deciding to offer up information in hopes of learning something.

“He was where the Queen was supposed to be. All our plans—Ash, your information, everything. They all said that she’d be there.”

“And instead you got him? Shit dude, you really got the short end of the stick.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Ashley looked confused.

“You didn’t _know_ everything.” Burnie explained, the smug look he’d been giving Ryan disappearing as he turned to Ashley. “They didn’t trust you, and honestly, for some _really_ good reasons.”

“Was he willingly allied with them?” Ryan asked, pressing for information.”

“Not really. I mean, were any of the mages?” Burnie did have the decency look slightly guilty as he said that.

“No.” This was good news, really. This supported what Ray had said, and provided evidence that Ryan had been right to trust him. “Ashley, he’s here and he can help us.”

“Excuse me for asking,” Burnie began, looking anything but apologetic at his interruption. “But who’s the Oracle that you mentioned? Ash, why didn’t you want to talk to him?”

“The Oracle,” Ashley started, “cares about himself. Anyone else he helps is someone who manages to amuse him. That’s really it.”

“And the name? It’s a magic thing?” Burnie did look confused at that. Ryan didn’t feel the need to explain anything to him—if those of the New Kingdom had wanted their knights to be prepared for such things that had once been as commonplace as the Oracle, then perhaps they should have taken the time to educate them about the country that they’d destroyed.

“The Oracle is incredibly talented, and has the rare ability to assist in discerning things that others can’t see.”

“Ryan, I won’t go with this time.” Ashley stated firmly with a finality that Ryan was well familiar with.

“I understand that.” Ryan nodded to her. “Stay here if you need to. It’ll be safe here, if nothing else.”

“We will.” Ashley nodded to him, linking her arm with Burnie’s, her stare challenging him to object.

Ryan met her gaze for a moment, then finally nodded, gesturing to Kerry.

“Help Ashley to settle in again.”

Kerry nodded eagerly, smiling at the woman even as Burnie stared at him and his fur covered legs. Let him stare, honestly. Ryan knew that Ashley wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t bring an enemy here unless she was sure of her actions—and Kerry was more than capable of taking care of himself.

“Matt.” Ryan directed his attention to the other faun, letting Kerry go on his way with Ashley and Burnie, noting that Miles trailed after them. “Fetch Ray.”

“Um.” Matt looked hesitant, and not for the first time, Ryan wished that the conversation that had just taken place could have done so somewhere private. “You said he’s a Necromancer?”

“I did. You hadn’t heard?” Ryan raised one eyebrow, glaring at the other and daring Matt to respond to what he’d just said.

“And I’ll go get him.” Matt added awkwardly at the glare from Ryan, turning and moving to retrieve the Necromancer.

“Bring him to the front halls. I’ll be ready by then.”

Ryan strode away, not knowing what he’d have to ask the Oracle—he needed to get the power he’d need to save Lindsay and Meg, and he couldn’t do it alone. Lindsay had provided him with the power that he needed to accomplish lesser goals in the past, but without her, he didn’t know what he could do, and the loss of power was maddening. The necromancer would provide some help, but not enough. He would leave tonight, traveling alone, and if all went well he’d reach the Oracle within a few days.

He would not fail in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this one posted! Everything after this chapter is all new and different from what I had up before. The bit with Ashley was one of my favorite to write, and I'm glad that I've gotten it this far.


	6. Jailbreak

Michael shifted, waking up in degrees only to stare at the darkness around him. His legs were hurting, and after a moment he shifted, sitting up to hang his legs over his cot. Laying down wouldn’t do him any good or help, he knew that. He’d seen how his veins had started to show through his skin, the red in them showing that the wounds, as much as they’d tried to keep them clean, were still collecting grime and that something, he didn’t know what, had gotten into them and he knew what would happen from here. He’d seen it before in other soldiers, the way that wounds would fester and rot if healers weren’t available, and he knew very well what would happen if a healer wasn’t found.

He glanced over at the nearby cot that Jeremy had been taking, expecting to see the other sleeping, instead greeted by a mussed blanket and an empty cot.

That wasn’t right. Michael knew well that the other had been instructed not to let him out of his sight, and the fact that the other had just now, after so long carefully observing the rules of what needed to be done, surprised him. Michael smiled grimly, thinking of the trouble that the other would be in if he was caught disobeying orders after he’d been assigned as he had. They’d trusted him to watch Michael, and while Michael was sure that they and he both knew that he didn’t intend to do anything to antagonize anyone, Jeremy was supposed to be the golden one in this situation, not Michael.

Michael didn’t debate what to do for a more than a fraction of a moment, then stood, swaying momentarily as he did. It took a moment of standing still to get his head to stop spinning, but once it had, he moved towards the door, stumbling forwards. He managed to make it to the door and to partially open it before he fell, slumping down to the ground.

He attempted to stand once more, attempting to find something on the wall to pull himself up, but nothing was to be found, and he simply lay there, struggling to stand. The sound of footsteps down the hall interrupted him, and he managed to desperately pull himself to his feet before they came closer, leaning up against the wall in a niche, waiting and watching silently.

Michael tried not to let any noise escape him as he stood there, frozen, only moving once he saw that the figure had passed by him, moving quietly down and past him, heading towards the dungeons. Whoever it was had put some effort into hiding their appearance behind a cloak, but there was only one individual who was that short who would be—no, that couldn’t be right.

Michael continued after the figure, following them from a distance and as quietly as he could, struggling to keep up even now. They did seem to be heading for the dungeon, and Michael hung back from the last turn, knowing that he’d be spotted by the guard outside the dungeon if he went much further.  He listened intently, waiting and moving out only when he heard the sound of a scuffle followed by a thud and the sound of a voice that was unmistakably Jeremy’s. When he heard the door click shut after opening, he followed, noting the fact that the guard who’d previously been on duty was now stuffed behind a desk in the corner.

“Lil J,” Michael wondered under his breath, genuinely suspicious now. “What’re you up to?”

He crept towards the door, pressing his ear in an attempt to hear whatever was taking place beyond it. Muttered phrases were all that he was able to catch, but the voices were unmistakably that of Jeremy and the dragon, and he knew that he needed to intervene. He pushed himself back and away from the door, swaying slightly as he did. He placed his hand on the door, tugging on it and attempting to pull it open again, and after a few attempts he finally pried it open, stumbling into the hallway to see the damning sight of Jeremy standing before him, the dragon at this side, now somewhat hidden under the cloak that Jeremy had been wearing previously.

“What,” he began, “are you doing here, lil J? You know that you’re not supposed to be here?”

“Shit—“ Jeremy cussed, and the dragon jerked back in surprise.

“You shouldn’t—You shouldn’t—“ Michael began again, but the exhaustion and dizziness from moving finally overcame him and he went tumbling to the ground, falling painfully down to his knees to then slump to the ground, yelling out.

“Shit, shit—what do we do with him?”

“He’s hurt still.”

Michael heard feet shuffling towards him, weakly attempting to push himself up on his hands and only succeeding in rolling over slightly, staring up as the dragon approached him.

“Lindsay, let’s just leave him. We—you need to get out—and soon.”

“He’ll die here.”

Michael weakly growled at her, but the fog in his mind prevented him from doing that, leaving him lying there as they spoke over him. It was too cold down here, and the burning in his legs was too much too attempt to do much.

“Well—can’t they help him?”

“Not without healers. And they’re gone, and I don’t think—,“ the dragon paused abruptly, silent for a moment, then continued her speech, slower, “—that any of them will be too intent to come back.”

“How are we supposed to get him out of here?”

“I don’t think it’ll be that much trouble for us together.”

“He’ll fight us.”

“If he can barely walk? I doubt that. “

“…Fine.” Michael felt a hand reach down for him, then another, and he felt himself lifted and his arms hung over their shoulders. He weakly struggled against them, but again, the fog in his mind prevented him from doing much. His eyes drooped closed, even the slightest movements of his legs causing them to burn with pain.

For a time, that was all he felt, the pain all he could feel as he was moved along, drug between the other two. Their progress was slow and he was sure less than silent, but he was still unable to do anything to stop them, hanging there as dead weight. This went on until they reached what must have been another area, a cool breeze blowing past him and causing him to shiver violently.

“This isn’t going to work, this isn’t going to work.” Michael distantly heard Jeremy mutter.

“Don’t worry. We’ve got this—we just need to get to the stable.”

“I’ll have to drop him. I really don’t want to hurt them—they’re honestly just trying to survive here.”

“I can threaten them—that’ll do something, they’ll be afraid.”

“…We’ll have to try it.”

“Alright—let’s go.”

The dragging continued for a moment longer, then there was the sound of a door opening, then Michael felt himself drop to the ground, the pain causing overtaking him and his vision blacking out.

* * *

_“So what’re we going to do now?”_

_“Find him.”_

_“The Vagabond…. And he’ll take me in?”_

_“You said it was your father?”_

_“Yeah. I mean, I never knew him, but my mother told me when I signed up. She wanted to warn me. They never questioned me.”_

_“You’re lucky then.”_

_“I was.”_

_“You’re sure it was just your father?”_

_“I’m not that short!”_

_“I mean, you really are. Why’d you want to enlist, anyways?”_

_“It was work. I mean, I needed something to do. We were poor, and it was a living.”_

_“Did it ever bug you?”_

_“I mean, not at first. They teased me for being shorter, but it wasn’t bad. I just…noticed things, you know? And then Michael would go and talk with you, and I listened.”_

_“And then my obviously subversive ideas swayed you to our way of looking at things.”_

_“Well, you’re not wrong.”_

_“I know. I’m right.”_

_“Yeah. You are.”_

_“…”_

_“…”_

_“Think he’ll wake up?”_

_“I don’t know. If we find a healer, probably.”_

_“And if we don’t?”_

_“He was already dying—I’m not a healer.”_

_“He’s a berserker. I think—I’m not sure—but I think that means he’s old blood. There were rumors.”_

_“Probably. I’m not the expert. That’d be the Vagabond.”_

_“And you’re sure he’ll take us in?”_

_“You helped me. I’m sure he will, and then we’ll fix things.”_


	7. Creator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsay and Jeremy find help for Michael. Michael is conflicted.

_“So you’re a healer?”_

_“I’m as much of a healer as you are a dragon.”_

_“…Oh. But you mean—“_

_“Can you help him or not?”_

_“I’ll see what I can do—here, lay him down. Is it infected?”_

_“I think so?”_

_“It’ll take time. You two wait outside.”_

_“…When he wakes up, he might be dangerous.”_

_“And you think I can’t handle that? Go on, get out. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”_

_“But what about payment?”_

_“We’ll discuss it when I’m done.”_

* * *

Every part of him seemed to ache, and the act of opening his eyes seemed to take minutes to do. When he finally did manage to open them, Michael found himself staring up at a simple wooden ceiling, the room dimly lit by light slipping in past curtains over a window, slightly fluttering in what he assumed was a breeze coming in through it. The room was busy, bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling and an abundance of carvings showing around it. A small table stood in the corner, and a few chairs around it.

Slowly sitting up, Michael took it all in, noting the presence of curls of shaven wood on the floor, providing a carpet that he doubted that he’d want to walk on without shoes. That thought in his mind, Michael realized that his feet were bare, and the fact that he’d been dressed in a simple tunic, something that he’d been sure he wasn’t wearing before. Quickly standing, he staggered slightly, instantly looking down at his legs, amazed and shocked to find that the gashes from the dragon’s claws, while still present, were finally scabbed over and notably smaller than they’d been before, but more than that, the signs of the infection were all gone, the red veins and inflamed tissue all gone.

He stared at his legs for a moment longer, straining to remember what had happened, memories coming back to him as he did. Jeremy and the dragon—they’d been at the castle, and then—

Michael looked across the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, eyes finally lighting on a knife that was sitting on a cutting board. He quickly walked over to it, reveling in the lack of pain from his legs as he did, grabbing the knife and holding it tightly.

The shavings on the floor pricked at his bare feet as he quickly made his way to the door, pushing it open to find that while still weak, doing that simple task was no longer nearly impossible for him. Opening the door, he was momentarily blinded by the light that shone brightly outside, showing him that it had to be nearly midday.

It took only a moment to spot Jeremy and the dragon, Jeremy sitting on a chair, the dragon leaning against a tree as she sat in the grass, and while still seemingly stuck between forms, she looked calmer than he’d ever seen her before. Knife gripped tightly in his hand, he moved towards the two, prepared to attack and fight should he need to, only to be frozen in place by a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder.

“I see you’re awake! That’s something, then, considering how far gone you were.” A woman’s voice spoke, moving quicker than he could react to and plucking the knife from his grasp and tossing it back behind them. Michael spun, trying to see who’d taken the knife to see a woman, arms covered in exquisite artwork, hair short and light.

“Michael?” He heard Jeremy ask, and he glanced over at the other as he stood, approaching him tentatively. The dragon seemed to have tensed again, standing slowly while he looked. The woman who’d taken the knife seemed to be waiting for a response, and after a moment of looking back towards her he spoke, voice tense.

“What did you do?”

“Healed you, for the most. It was difficult, I’ll say that, but nothing impossible.”

“How?” Michael asked.

“I cleaned it, and then I did what I could to purge the infection. It’ll still take time to heal now, but it’s clean from whatever the dragon had on her claws.”

“Hey, not my fault! That was all from the battle itself!” The dragon chimed in, and Michael took a step backwards, trying to move into a position where he could have all three of them in his field of vision.

“Why did you take me?” Michael asked, looking towards Jeremy.

“Her idea, not mine.” Jeremy gestured towards the dragon. “Lindsay said that you’d probably have died if we’d left you.”

“Those were infected.” The dragon pointed from where she stood to his legs, and Michael was reminded that he was still wearing simply the tunic, and was now unarmed.

“And whose fault was that?” Michael finally retorted. “Take me back.”

“Er, buddy, we can’t go back.” Jeremy replied.

Michael took another step back, finally in a position where he could see all three of the others without looking back and forth between them. The woman seemed to have settled down to watch the exchange on what he now saw to be a low branch of a tree that seemed to make up what he’s simply thought to be a wooden shack, allowing him to realize that it was, in fact, an entire structure formed from the branches and twists of the tree.

“We can’t go back.” Michael spat the words out, but even as he did, he realized the truth of them. They’d not trusted him before any of this, and now that he’d left, with Jeremy and the dragon, they’d never trust him no matter what he did or said about the situation.

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t going to take you, but you followed me, and then—“

“You would’ve died!” The dragon stated.

“Stop telling me that!”

“If you’ll all excuse me,” the still unknown woman interjected masterfully, “but I believe that it’s time to discuss my payment. Whether you like it or not, you’ve been healed.”

Michael waited for a moment, watching as Jeremy and the dragon looked back and forth between each other, the dragon speaking in the end.

“What do you want?”

“I think I’d accept delivery of a message.”

“To who?”

“There’s a man who owns a tavern a ways outside of the city, and I think that it’s time that he remembers something.”

“Remembers what?” Jeremy asked.

“That’s not what you need to deal with. You simply need to deliver something to him.”

“I can’t do that.” The dragon stated. “At least not like this. Jeremy?”

“I can, if I get instructions.”

“Fair enough. You two,” she gestured at Michael and the dragon, “can stay here till he returns. It shouldn’t take more than a day.”

“Why can’t you take it?” The dragon asked curiously.

“I’d rather not risk traveling there, and he needs to remember this on his own. I’m not going to force this on him.”

“I can do it.” Jeremy was just speaking to the dragon now, ignoring Michael altogether.

“Good.” The woman said. “If you’ll follow me inside, I’ll help get you on your way. You,” She pointed to Michael, “should sit down. Healing’s aren’t my specialty, and you’re likely to be dizzy.”

Michael huffed and folded his arms, watching as Jeremy followed the woman inside, noting how she plucked the knife he’d previously had from where it’d landed, somewhat surprised by how far it’d embedded itself in the tree.

“So you’re feeling better now?” The dragon was watching him, and Michael grumbled, leaning back on the tree.

“…Yeah.”

“Good. That’s something, then.”

The dragon hesitated for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind, sitting back down where she’d been sitting before. Michael noted that while she seemed relaxed in a way that she hadn’t been before, she still was tense, and the shifting of her scales had slowed, leaving her still stuck between forms, but seemingly better than she’d been before.

He tried to find a desire to say something or to ask, but nothing came to his mind. The fact that Jeremy and the dragon had most likely saved his life was obvious, but that didn’t change the fact that what they’d done would essentially prevent him from ever being able to return, a fact that he hadn’t quite completely processed. Truly, what would he do if he wasn’t able to return? He didn’t have family left that he knew of there, all of them having since passed on, and the friends he had enjoyed the company of in the past wouldn’t want to associate with him now. Gavin had made that more than obvious, and he wasn’t sure if he honestly still had a desire to associate with them.

Jeremy emerged, a pack on his back and followed by the woman.

“I should be back before nightfall.” He spoke to the dragon, then turned awkwardly to Michael. “Um—“ he started, then seemed to think better of saying anything to him, instead turning and walking away from the clearing. The dragon waved at him in farewell as he went, and the woman turned to Michael.

“I want you to go sit down. You shouldn’t be out here in the heat, and I’d hate for you pass out and undo anything that I did.”

“I don’t need to sit down.”

“Yes, you do.”

Michael glared at her for a moment, then relented when she showed no sign of standing down, moving reluctantly towards the door, noting that she followed him in.

“And Lindsay,” the woman began, “I want you to come in too! I want to get a look at that curse!”

Michael didn’t see the dragon’s reaction to that comment, making his way over to one of the chairs to plunk down in it, relieved to have his legs finally free from his weight. The dragon followed them in, taking a moment then sitting down as far from Michael as she could, pulling a chair over then awkwardly sitting in it. She was fidgeting, absently picking at a twig that she must have picked up outside, pulling it apart and letting it fall to the floor to join the shavings that lay there.

“Michael,” the other woman began, offering her hand to him. “Griffon. I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself earlier. You weren’t in any shape for conversation.”

After a moment of hesitation, Michael stood again, shaking her hand, then sitting down again. “You’re a healer, then?”

“Not really.” Griffon stated. “It’s something I picked up over the years, but I’d hardly call it all I do.”

“What do you do?” Michael asked, looking around the room again, taking in the carvings.

“I create.” She said, leaving the conversation at that. Lindsay—no, the dragon—perked up at that.

“But what are you?”

“None of your business. I helped you, and you’ll be on your way soon enough. Now, did you want me to look at that curse or not? I doubt I’ll be able to do anything, but I’ll try to see if I can help.”

“….Fine.”

Griffon approached the dragon, placing her hands on the other’s shoulders when she reached her. “How long?”

“Since I was a kid. My parents made a deal, and well, they really couldn’t keep up their end.”

“And it’s always been this bad?”

“….Not exactly.” The dragon seemed reluctant to continue, and Michael caught her looking towards him as she spoke. “We had a way to deal with it.”

“And by we, I’m assuming that you’re referring to the Vagabond?”

“You know about that?” The dragon seemed surprised.

“I do keep up on the news. What’s taking place is as much my business as anything.”

“Then yes, we were dealing with it. Together.”

“How was that done?”

“With help from an Oracle.”

That seemed to interest Griffon. “The Oracle?”

“I mean, I don’t know if there’s just that one, or if there’s others or not.”

“As far as I know, there’s always been just the one. How’d you convince him to help?”

“We made an offering. D’you know him?”

“I did, once.”

This seemed to interest the dragon greatly. “Are you like him?”

“No, I’m not.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably, irritated by the discussion. True, he was gaining potentially valuable information about the Vagabond and the Dragon, but it wasn’t something that he could really use now, and even if he did happen upon some secret that could potentially bring about the downfall of the Vagabond, that wouldn’t matter to him. Really, as he pondered this further as the dragon and Griffon spoke, trading fragments of information about forbidden magic and what had taken place with the Oracle, a thought crossed his mind that hadn’t done so yet.

Honestly and truly, why did he want to go back? They wouldn’t trust him. They didn’t want him as anything more than a tool. Was it possible that things could be better outside of the city? He could easily hire himself out to a trading caravan as a hired sword. He’d have to find armor and weapons again, as he doubted that the others had bothered to take any of his. They’d finally been returned to him, the diamond sword that’d been passed to him through his family, but that had been take while he’d been imprisoned.

That was something that he did regret the loss of, and there was little chance that he’d ever get it back. Short of simply turning himself in, there wasn’t anything he could do.

Unless… There was a chance of something he could do that would prove himself to them again, if he wanted to return. If the dragon and Jeremy were really going to return to the Vagabond, he’d be given an opportunity that few others ever had. If he had an opportunity to strike the other down and took it, then he’d be able to return.

He’d simply have to decide it if was what he wanted to do, or if not.

Michael looked back to Griffon and the dragon—to Lindsay—and listened to their conversation again, the two of them discussing the workings of whatever spell had kept her as a dragon. The more time Michael seemed to spend listening to her, the harder it was to simply hate her for what she was. She and Jeremy truly hadn’t needed to take him with them—they could have easily left him behind, and he was well aware of how sick he’d been. He didn’t know how far they’d taken him, or where they were now, but they had helped him.

For now, at the very least, it seemed that it was to his advantage to stay with them. He’d go along so long as they would let him, and if that ended with his being able to hurt the Vagabond, then he’d do it, but if not, then he’d stay. It’d depend on what way things went, but for the time being he’d stay here. If he decided to move on and leave them and try to leave on his own, then he would, but he’d stick with this for the time being.

Griffon and Lindsay had moved on, and the conversation now seemed to consist of Griffon interrogating Lindsay about whatever her parents had done to screw up as badly as they must have, and Michael found himself unwillingly drawn into the story that she was telling.

“So they weren’t able to fill their half?”

“Right. I mean, I’d like to think that whoever—or whatever—they made the deal with assumed that they’d go running back with their part when I was cursed.”

“But they didn’t.” Griffon nodded.

“Yeah. And I just kinda, I don’t know, got left out, or behind or whatever. It wasn’t safe to have me, and if I was seen then someone would find out that they’d dabbled with magic, and you can see why that’d be a problem.”

“I do.” Griffon nodded slowly. “Have you ever considered trying to fill their half of the deal?”

“I’ve thought about it.” Lindsay stated. “Ryan and I tried, for a while, but we couldn’t find anything.”

“If you wanted to find a way to fix it, I’d recommend trying that. From what you’ve said, I could give you some ideas of where you could look for whoever they made the deal with.”

“I can’t go looking now.” Lindsay stated regretfully. “I need to get back with Ryan and to let him know what’s happened so we can help Meg.”

“Wait a minute.” Michael interjected into the conversation, something falling into place in his mind. “You said Ryan. Is that him? The Vagabond?”

Lindsay looked uncomfortable for a moment, then responded slowly. “Yeah. Ryan.”

It was strange to put a name that was that simple to the villain who’d plagued the kingdom for so long, and Michael wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“How long have you known him?”

“Since I was about ten or so? I mean, my parents could only do so much. He wasn’t more than a couple of years older then, and he hadn’t met up with Meg or—Well, I was the first. We didn’t find out a way to fix it for a few years after that either. Why do you ask?”

“I mean,” Michael began slowly. “I’m curious. I’m stuck with you and Jeremy, so I’d might as well ask.”

“So you’re not going to go back?”

“I don’t think I can.” Michael stated truthfully. It would be better to be on her good side for now, and if asking more about her was what it took, then he’d do it. “They wouldn’t accept that I didn’t choose to leave after what happened.”

The dragon seemed satisfied by his answer. 

“Good, then.”

“Either way, I’d recommend traveling slowly.” Griffon interjected. “You shouldn’t be traveling if you want to heal.” She nodded to Michael. “And you’re welcome to stay here for a day or two, until they stop searching. If I haven’t been found yet, then they’re not likely to find me now.”

“How long have you been here?” Lindsay asked curiously.

“A long time.” Griffon stated evasively, moving away from them. “I’m making tea. Something that’ll help both of you.”

Michael watched, vaguely bemused by the situation that he found himself in now that he’d made up his mind for the time. He’d stick with it, and it’d turn out either way it ended up going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the comments and kudos so far! they keep me going and writing! 
> 
> additional thoughts? rocks to throw? leave a comment or pop in with feedback over on my tumblr at [neophytedoodlez](http://neophytedoodlez.tumblr.com/) if you've got something to say!


	8. Oracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan visits with the Oracle.

“I’ll admit, this offering is very impressive. The vintage is even better than the last!”

“I’m glad that you’re liking it.” Ryan replied calmly, watching as the man before him popped out the cork, taking a sip of the alcohol. “You’ll help me, then?”

“You just can’t find this anywhere these days! Once, I’d’ve went out and found it on my own, but well, now things aren’t as inviting, and really, I’d rather just stay here.”

Ryan noted that the other had ignored his question. “Is that suitable?”

“What else did you bring?”

Ryan passed the other the book, letting the wrappings around it fall to the table between them.

“Oh, this is nice! Old too! I mean, I’ve already read it, but still, this is impressive that you managed to find a copy!”

“It’s something that I’ve treasured. I thought that you might like it.”

“Well, you’re right.” The book was set to the side. “And what’s last?”

“Still hoping for things in threes?”

“You know what it takes. Besides, I already know that you’ve brought it.”

“Of course.” Ryan dug down into his pack, pulling out a leather bag of glimmering scales. “I thought you might want these, after what your help did. They’ve got power of their own, of course.”

The Oracle sniffed at them, taking the bag and setting it to the side carelessly. “I suppose that they’ll do, even if they’re not from a true dragon.”

“They’ve worked well enough for me in spells.”

“Well, you’re hardly doing the kind of fine work that I’d want those for. Besides, if I needed dragon scales, I’d hardly need go far for them.”

“You’re saying that there’s another dragon—nearby?” Ryan was surprised by that, pausing for a moment, forgetting his headache as he debated the idea of there being another dragon in the area.

“Well, not near for you.” The Oracle remarked smugly. “If I wanted to go out, I’d be able to get them easily. I just don’t want to.”

“But then—“ Ryan broke off, shaking his head slightly. That wasn’t what he was here for. Taking a moment to debate his options, he decided to pursue his request. “When we were here before, you mentioned that there were other ways that we could have helped her, but you wouldn’t tell us.”

The Oracle frowned. “You should’ve told me what you wanted before the offering. That’s something that requires at least a few more things than that, and besides, I’m not telling you any of that.”

“You already took the offering. The records say that you’re required to help if—“

“The records are bullshit.” The Oracle stated, shaking his head. “I don’t have to help you. I can choose to help you. I did before, and look.”

“I don’t know how they knew how to break it, and I know I’m going to fix things here. I just need a way to get to the power I need again.”

“You already failed once. Don’t you think that you should just give up?”

“I’m not giving up.” Ryan stated determinedly. “Not on Lindsay and Meg.”

“They’ve got Meg?” The Oracle seemed to perk up. “What about the other one, Ashley. You didn’t tell me any of what happened yet.”

“Ashley’s safe.” Ryan offered. “They’ve got Meg and Lindsay.”

“One out of three isn’t terrible.” The Oracle stated, seemingly attempting to convince himself. “Besides, I always liked Ashley the best.”

“She escaped with the assistance of a knight.”

“She did?” The Oracle seemed to pause, eyes glazing over as he did. “She did! And—that sly dog, what’s he doing there?”

“Who?” Ryan was perplexed by this. “What did you see?”

“Oh, nothing that you need to worry about.” The Oracle informed him knowingly, nodding.

“I need to know how to access the power again.”

“I can’t help you with that, and I doubt that you’d be able to do it alone. Besides, without her curse and magic you’d need to summon a demon.”

“You don’t understand.” Ryan began, trying to stress the importance of the situation to the other being. “I need to know how to access it without Lindsay. If that means summoning a demon, I’ll do it.”

The Oracle squinted at him through his spectacles. “You’re telling me that you somehow managed to lose what was connecting you, a power that I warned you very clearly against using in the first place, and that now you’re trying to do it alone? That you managed to make it work at all before was a miracle, and I doubt that you’re capable of using it alone.”

“I am capable—“ Ryan insisted, hands clenching into fists. “I just need to know what to do.”

“It’s not possible.” The Oracle stated. “You can’t do it alone, and what you did before was already cheating. She’s not a real dragon, you’re not meant to wield that power. I’m not helping.”

“Please,” Ryan said, desperation seeping into his voice. “I need to help her, and I can fix this. I can control the power, I just need to know how to access it. Again.”

The Oracle didn’t say anything, merely staring at him for a moment.

“If they try to make a deal, will you reject them?”

“Who—I don’t know what you mean—“ Ryan stood, frustrated.

“Then you weren’t listening before.” The Oracle’s frown lessened at that, and he paused for a moment, eyes glazing over again. “Don’t make any deals other than what you need to bind the demon, and if this backfires, I’m washing my hands of all of this. They’re waiting for you, and you’ve never heard them, but if you try this again, I can’t guarantee that they’ll still be silent.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan said, hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know who you’re taking about.”

“You’ll hear them, even on the other side if you give too much of yourself up to them.” The Oracle seemed to return his attention to Ryan. “I liked you, too. And the others.” He seemed tired now, and Ryan noticed sharply how the edges of the room had begun to blur.

“Don’t just send me away—“ He took a single step towards the Oracle, the scene blurring further. “I need this help! You can’t just—“

Everything pulsed, the shapes and forms fading into oblivion, and Ryan felt himself forced from what he saw, trying to take another step towards the Oracle only to be pulled back by an unseen force. The pressure built, then pulsed again, and everything faded to darkness.

* * *

Ryan woke to the smell of alcohol and the remnants of a fire burning in a now empty cave, the scent of the herbs that he’d burned previously nearly gone. Scrambling to his feet, he noted the absence of the offerings that he’d carefully set out.

Something was in his hand, crumpled into a ball of paper, and he slowly unclenched his fist, taking the paper and carefully unwrapping it to see what was there. The parchment, as he unwrapped it, revealed a complicated series of symbols and words, listing the instructions for a ritual that he’d participated in once previously, some minor changes, details added that he’d forgotten from before, and an entire incantation that they’d not used before, instructions for the permanent binding of a demon, whereas before they’d merely used one in the process of creating the enchantment to control Lindsay’s curse and subsequent magic. The demon they’d used had been released back to their realm once the magic was controlled, and the Oracle had reassured them that it’d be enough to help them for years, and it very nearly had been enough.

Ryan frowned, thinking on what had happened again. Even now, equipped with the information that he had gained from the Oracle, he still didn’t know how they’d discovered how to break his connection with Lindsay. He still possessed the pendant that had held his part of their connection, magic bound and bought by their mixed blood. Whatever had happened to hers, he wouldn’t know, and until he could be sure of what had happened and how the information had been shared as to how to stop them, he would need to be cautious, and trust only those who he knew he could rely on.

The more he thought about that, the less he knew. Who could he trust? Ashley was the first that he thought of, but he truly had no way of knowing that she hadn’t allowed any information to slip. After the Oracle’s curiosity, he was inclined to believe that he could trust her, but still, it wasn’t something that he could be positive of. All and any individuals at his camp who could pass as human, who could trust any promises made by those of the new blood, with the possible exception of Ray, were under suspicion.

Ray couldn’t have been a traitor, and he’d proved himself someone that Ryan could rely on, or who he’d at the very least been forced to, and had Ray wanted to harm him, he could have easily done so. Still, there was a chance that he could try to share information, but Ryan suspected that the other wouldn’t be able to leave without Ryan’s assistance. The journey to their camp had been long and complicated, and one that Ray likely wouldn’t remember.

Ryan took in the paper, examining the designs left for a moment longer and thinking of what he’d need. There would be blood, of course, but his own would suffice for the ritual. It would be safest, by far, to attempt it when he returned back to the ruins, but the worry of a traitor in their midst stopped him. It would be riskier to attempt it on his own, but the he’d be sure that what power he gained could be hidden, and something that none of the others would be able to understand or would know how to stop the power that he would hold. There would be a lesser risk of betrayal, simply because they wouldn’t know the truth of his power.

Decision made, Ryan determined that he’d gather what he needed, sure that the Oracle wouldn’t mind if he was to use the cave. After all, the other had sent him back without instruction, so this would suffice for the ritual. He would take the night to rest, and in the morning, he would commence with what needed to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Complaints? Compliments? Leave a comment, or pop in over on my tumblr at [neophytedoodlez.](http://neophytedoodlez.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I didn't explicitly state who the Oracle was, so I'll leave that up to your imagination. It's a detail that might come up later, and I didn't want to spoil things to come this early in.


	9. Interlude Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg's in trouble. James is realizing the consequences of Lindsay's escape, and how that happening has hurt his plans. 
> 
> Elyse wants to be included. She does some thinking.

Meg stood loosely, arms crossed over her chest, waiting silently. Something was different, and she didn’t know what. Every other day they’d been quick to visit around what seemed to have been a similar time, but today she’d been left alone, no visitors. She needed to find a way out, to discover a weak link or someone who she’d be able to use to get enough information out to someone who could tell Ryan what had happened, but as of yet, short of simply attacking and hoping for best, no opportunities had presented themselves.

No storms had come yet.

She’d slowly been working away at the wall where it seemed the thinnest, taking all of her extra time and energy to allow the water in the air that she was able to pull to herself to wear at it, weakening mortar and stone. Given long enough, she’d be able to break through, but the unknown factor in all of this was still Lindsay’s fate, and what the Queen had told her about the situation. Meg wasn’t inclined to believe the other woman, but if nothing else, what she’d said had served to further a belief that she needed to escape, and she’d somehow have to help Lindsay to do so as well, assuming the other’s latent magic had healed her to a degree where she’d be able to do so.

Meg didn’t know all the details of the bond between Lindsay and Ryan, and if it truly was broken, then there was a chance that she’d be unable to heal, and that provided another set of issues.

Meg slowly paced the room. She could attempt to further erode the structural integrity of the wall, but if they were to happen upon her doing such a thing then they’d likely realize her powers. As deliberately obtuse as she’d been about what her abilities were, some of them would have to make the connection between the erosion and the water that she controlled.

She could attempt to make a break for it, to run and pass a message on then return to attempt to help Lindsay, but she’d have to reach the outer halls of the castle to reach the woman who was rumored to be a supporter, but even then, she’d have to disguise her actions and prevent it from being obvious as to who she was attempting to reach.

If only a storm would come.

A scuffle outside the door stopped her in her tracks. Meg stood straight in the center of the room, staring towards the door as she did. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and tensed, watching as it swung open.

She refused to take a step back as soldiers moved in, standing tall. She noted the presence of the knight from the Queen’s visit, Adam, and Gavin, who’d been the one to come and question her more than once when they’d come. He hung back while the others filed in, standing around the edges of the room. None of the others spoke, and only when the walls of the room were fully flanked with soldiers intermixed with knights did her final visitor enter.

Meg recognized the man from rough sketches that’d  been passed around a campfire in the deep of night, years ago now, accompanied by a shared vow to not rest until he was dead, a promise that she still fully intended to keep her part of, no matter the cost. Refusing to look down or falter, Meg stared at the man as he approached, stopping a few steps away.

* * *

James stood tall, staring down at the woman as he did, noting that Peake quietly entered the room behind him, standing quietly by the door as it closed. Adam and Bruce had both taken their spots around the room, and he was glad to see that they’d followed his instructions in selecting the group to bring with them. All new blood, foreigners from other places who wouldn’t have any reason to trust anything from their prisoner, fixing what he now knew had been a mistake, and all deathly loyal. The loss of Mogar was regrettable, but something that he and Lawrence had discussed potentially happening for some time now as they’d seen his disquiet. True, it would have been for the best if they’d been able to keep him there and in their service, but they’d make do.

With him gone, there would be whispers from the people about the champion that they’d lost, but all it would take would be a few well-placed rumors about the dragon and the fact that it seemed like he’d helped her to escape after those she’d killed, and they’d be able to make up the loss. The loss of the dragon, on the other hand, left them severely behind where they’d wanted to be. True, the Bard had assured him that his sources had told him that breaking the connection between the Vagabond and the dragon wouldn’t be something that could be fixed easily, but still, she’d been the one that they’d been sure he’d come for. True, they did still have the spirit, but her capture had never been a part of their master plan. The Bard’s sources had provided some information on the woman, and enough to assure them that the Vagabond would come for her as well, but it was still a variation from the plan that James didn’t like.

James looked to the noble who’d previously been charged with speaking to her.

“Lord Free, what’s she told you?”

“Nothing that we can use to find the Vagabond, if that’s what you’re asking.” The man responded quickly. “She’ll tell us other stuff, but nothing on that yet.”

“And we kept the dragon safe in return.”

“Yeah. That was the deal.”

“And now we need more information.”

This’d been the bit that they’d worked closely on the plan for, debating with Lawrence and the Bard till they’d finally completed the plan.

“What’re you saying?” The woman finally spoke, voice cold.

“Well, Meg,” James began, pointedly using her name. “Having a dragon here’s a lot of trouble, more than we might want without the information that we need. I’m sure you know who you’re speaking with.”

“Of course I do.” She spat out the words, composure slipping slightly to reveal the anger hidden underneath.

“Then you’ll understand why I need to know the Vagabond’s location.” James took a step forwards, lowering his voice. “Within the week. Or we’ll just do without the dragon.”

Meg didn’t speak. She merely glared at him, any semblance of calm pulled away.

“A week. And after that, we’ll just deal with one hostage.” James finished, turning and leaving without another word, leaving his lie behind him. The most of those who’d accompanied him as a show of force followed him out, with the exception of the few who he’d requested to stay behind, all with specific instructions to report any of the others if there was a sign of betrayal from any of them. Free would stay behind as well, attempt to extract information through kindness, but for now, James’ part was done.

He continued through the halls, flanked by Adam and Bruce, Peake trailing behind. He’d go once more to speak with the Bard and Lawrence, the all of them in council, and then they would wait and hope that their ruse would succeed.

Lawrence was already seated in the corner of the room when James entered, frowning slightly. The Bard was already present, standing in the corner, but the woman who he was speaking with wasn’t one who James would have wanted to be brought into this.

“Hey Joel!” He called to the Bard. “Elyse, this is private. Non-ladies stuff.”

Elyse frowned at him as he spoke, and he knew that if he made her leave, that this would come up later, and likely when he needed her to help with something. She’d been distant with him recently, and he’d have to have been an idiot to not see that. She didn’t like how he was dealing with all of this and still didn’t know that she’d been manipulated earlier, but she had to know that he was doing what was for the best.

“James.” Elyse began, putting her hands on her hips. “I just learned that Joel was here. I want to catch up.”

“Elyse, He’ll be here after this. I need to talk with them.”

Elyse glared at him for a moment longer before turning on her heel, storming out of the room, arms crossed. James knew that he’d be paying for this later, but he truly did need to talk with his counsel, and Elyse didn’t need to be here for this meeting. He could trust her, but the less individuals who knew the truth of the council’s plans and sources of information, the better off they’d be.

With Elyse gone, James turned to the others, settling down at the table. Adam, Joel, Peake, and Bruce followed him, looking to James.

“So you’ve talked with her?” Joel began, fiddling with the papers he’d began to pull from a pack. “Because if she doesn’t fall for that, we’re screwed.”

“I’ve talked with her.” James nodded. “I’m sure we’ll be able to get something from her.”

“I’m not.” Lawrence sighed. “We’ve been trying, and if she wasn’t willing to give anything before, she’s not likely to now. If anything, this could provoke an attack.”

“We’ll follow through with Joel’s plan.”

“Is there any new information?” Adam interjected into the conversation, looking to Joel.

“Only what I already said. The Vagabond was there, then went to the Oracle. My source is still claiming that he can’t just tell us where they are, and that he’s got to wait. _I_ think that we should be pursuing the Oracle, if he’s the one that they’ve gotten all their help from.”

Adam exhaled heavily. “James, Lawrence, we need more information. You’ve got to see that.”

“Of course I can see that.” James stated pointedly. “I can also see that we’ve got to work with this, and that if word gets out that the dragon’s escaped, that we’re in bigger trouble.”

“I don’t know how long we’ll be able to contain it.”

“We’re continuing on as we were already.”

“Hey James,” Bruce began, “don’t you think that we should ask Matt Peake what he thinks we should do? Consult the magics and all that?”

The tension that’d been building in the room eased with Bruce’s request. Peake frowned at James, and James nodded.

“Of course we should!”

Lawrence stood, moving his attention from the group with one last word of advice. “James, be sure you check Elyse.”

“She ought to be in on this.” Joel remarked. “She’d be a good help.”

Bruce nodded in agreement. “James, don’t you think that she ought to be in on this? I mean, she’s the one that they’d’ve killed if they’d succeeded, and if Joel hadn’t been able to get a warning here in time.”

Peake stood up, edging irritably towards the door as the conversation continued, determined to escape for now.

“Bruce, Joel, I think that if we tell her, she’ll be in more danger than she is now. Honestly, I’m probably protecting her even more by not telling her! Really, this is for her sake!”

Bruce didn’t seem appeased by his answer, but Joel accepted it.

“And Peake!” James called. “Do your thing!”

Peake turned from where he stood at the door, very nearly ready to exit the room.

“James, I’ve already told you. I’m not the one you should be going to for help with any of this, you know that.”

“Peake—“ Bruce began.

“No.” Peake said with surprising firmness. “James, listen.” He took a step back towards the center of the room and away from the door. “You know what I do, and you know what I can’t do.”

“Peake, you’re my arcane advisor!” James exclaimed. “We all know that—they all know that!”

“James, I’m here because I have to be. I want to help, I really do, but if Joel hadn’t gotten that information, Elyse could’ve died. I couldn’t do anything to prevent that.” Peake continued quietly. “Look. I’m willing to play the part, but you need to consider that you need someone who can really do what you need.”

“We can’t trust any of them.” Lawrence interjected. “You know that.”

“So we’re going to fake it?” Peake asked. “You know what I think, and I’ll fake what you need me to. I’m not going to say any more.” With those words, he returned to the door, opening it and exiting the chamber to leave the rest behind.

“You’re not going to listen to him, aren’t you?” Adam asked quietly.

“Adam, please. We’ve got this. Peake’s just too hard on himself.”

Adam didn’t seem convinced, but Joel did seem to agree.

“I think we’re done here.” Lawrence stated. “James, who do you want to keep an eye on Free?”

“Adam, you’ve got that.”

Adam nodded. “We should be good. He’s not of the old blood, and he’s got no reason to listen to her.”

“Neither did whats-his-name—“

“Jeremy.” Bruce interjected.

“We can’t be sure of that.” Lawrence countered. “His father isn’t in the records.”

“But we can be sure with Gavin, and Adam’ll keep an eye on him.”

“And I’ll be watching.” Joel added. “I’ll stay till word comes about the dragon, either way.”

“Good.” James nodded. “Why don’t you go find Elyse? I think she’ll be more willing to talk to you than anyone else.”

“Got it. I’ll give her a few minutes to stew, and then I’ll go find her.”

“And I’ll talk with her later.” James nodded, finishing the conversation.

“Then we’ll meet tomorrow and go over anything the spirit tells Free.” Lawrence concluded.

“If she tells him anything.” Adam added.

“We’ll see then.” James said.

* * *

Elyse stormed through the halls, sparing a glare for the guards who’d begun to shadow her as she’d left the room. They were upright men, fiercely loyal to James, and somehow still foreign to her. She wasn’t sure where to go, but she didn’t doubt that James would send someone to talk to her after they were done talking. It’d be either Bruce or Joel, one of the two, and she wasn’t in the mood to talk to either of them after being cut out of yet another meeting. She’d been woken in the night, same as James, and she’d seen the chaos that Lawrence and James had quickly quashed after the dragon had vanished with two of the guard. She was a part of this, the same as them, and she deserved to know what’d been said behind closed doors. Her life was the one that’d been in danger, and it was her right to know.

True, she’d attempted to go behind James’ back with the help of Adam and Bruce, and the more she thought about that, the more she wondered if perhaps he somehow knew, and that was why he’d not trusted her. What if either of them had told James? True, she trusted both of them, but there was always a chance that she’d misjudged their loyalty and that she’d been wrong, but even with that, none of what had happened was sitting right with her. She understood why those of the old blood were upset, and she saw the flaws in what James was doing.

The Vagabond was a menace, and had caused genuine harm to the kingdom and to innocents, but James had done the same, and she saw and understood that fact. Neither of them were innocent, and so long as this fight continued, neither side could win, and innocents would only be hurt.

 The realization of what she truly was thinking hit her slowly, and she slowed her pace, turning and moving towards her rooms, a plan slowly forming in her mind as she went. She wasn’t the queen that the people wanted, and she doubted that she ever would be. None of them had reason to trust and care for her, a foreigner, no matter their blood.

 She was and would always be an outsider, but if she could do this small thing, and somehow convince them to stop and allow for some conversation between the two sides, then maybe it’d be worth it to be here and to be outside of them if she could make up the ground that they couldn’t seem to find a way to cross between the two sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Joel's not in Funhaus anymore, but he was in the original outline for the fic way back when, and I don't have another character to fill his role, so he's still here, clunking along in this fic.


	10. Summoning

Michael stared across the clearing to where Lindsay was sitting by Jeremy. Jeremy had returned late the previous night, managing to make it back just before dark. He watched them for a moment, hesitating slightly, then moving to go and carefully sit down by them. He noted how they both stopped talking when he approached, and for a moment he was bitter about how comfortable they both seemed to be with each other. They’d settled in easily to conversing, and Michael supposed that he understood why, but that didn’t prevent him from being uncomfortable.

“How’re you feeling?” Jeremy finally asked, nodding towards his legs.

“Better.” Michael said grimly. Truly, he was feeling much better, and while he was still weak, his rate of healing had greatly increased under Griffon’s watchful gaze.

“That’s good.” The dragon—Lindsay, Michael reminded himself—said. “We needed to talk with you about where we’re going.”

“You’re going back to the Vagabond?” Michael asked.

“For now. Jeremy’s going with.”

Michael looked to Jeremy. “You’re going there?”

“Yeah, I mean. I wasn’t ever on the wrong side of anything like you were, but I’ve got the old blood just the same. I might as well.”

“You’re old blood?” Michael squinted at Jeremy.

“My dad, so yeah.”

Jeremy didn’t seem keen to offer more information, but Michael was curious.

“What was he, a dwarf?”

Lindsay snorted at that. Jeremy looked defensive.

“Dude, not cool.”

“So I’m wrong?”

“Well, no, you’re not, but man, that’s not cool.”

Michael let out a laugh of his own, genuinely humored by the other. “You’re serious? A dwarf?”

“So what! I did just fine, and no one asked too many questions!”

“And he’ll be accepted because of that.” Lindsay interjected, steering the conversation back on track. “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. Jeremy told me more about you, and what you were. If you really want it, the Vagabond would take you in too.”

“Really? He’d take in a soldier who’d fought against him, just because I’ve got some old blood?”

“Well, Jeremy did say that you were a berserker, and you’d have my backing too.”

Michael was surprised that she did seem genuinely willing to support and help him, and that she was ready to support him before the Vagabond. True, he’d talked with her, but he’d not done anything to prove that he could be trusted yet. For all she knew, he’d want to still return to the castle now.

“I want to go with, for now.” Michael said.

“Good.” Lindsay said. “Then we’ll leave as soon as Griffon says that you can travel, and that’ll be a few days at the very least. We won’t be traveling too fast, but you still need to heal.”

“How far would we need to go?”

“A ways.” Lindsay stated cryptically. “I’ve never walked it, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Because you’re a dragon.” Jeremy stated, still seemingly intrigued by that fact.

“Pretty much. We usually just fly at night and sleep in the day, and it’s only a few days then, so I don’t know how long it’ll be without horses.”

“And there’s no way to get some?”

“Not without Ryan’s contacts.”  Lindsay replied.

“Why do you bother calling him the Vagabond here?” Michael asked.

“Ryan—That’s his name.” Jeremy stated, seemingly hearing that for the first time.

Lindsay looked uncomfortable for a moment, then shrugged. “The name carries power. If he’s just the Vagabond, then he’s a symbol. If he’s Ryan, then he’s just a man. It’s safer. If you’re both coming with, then I suppose that it won’t hurt for you to know.”

“I can’t believe I know the Vagabond’s name.” Jeremy marveled for a moment.

“Just don’t overuse it.” Lindsay stated quickly. “It’s not common knowledge.”

“Of course I won’t.” Jeremy said.

“Good.” Lindsay relaxed slightly, picking at a scale. “Now, has Griffon told you anything about when you’ll be good to travel?”

“Not yet.” Michael replied, something that none of them had mentioned yet crossing his mind. “What about the other one at the castle? Meg?”

“Oh, I’m not too worried about her.” Lindsay stated. “She’ll be fine. It’s bound to rain soon enough.”

“To rain?” Jeremy asked curiously.

“She’s good. I doubt that we’ll be able to help her, and like I said, it’ll rain soon enough, and then she’ll be out.”

“How the hell is that supposed to help her?”

“Meg’s got a thing with the water. She’s a water spirit, and if there’s as much water there as a storm will bring then there’s no way that they’d be able to keep her there.”

“So she’ll just like, break out?” Michael asked, worried for a moment about Gavin.

“Probably.” Lindsay shrugged. “If not, once we get to Ryan, we can fix my curse again, and then we’ll be able to get her. We’ll figure out how they knew, and then we’ll fix things.”

Michael wasn’t too keen on the sound of the finality that came with Lindsay speaking about fixing things, but he didn’t say anything to disagree with her. There’d be time for that later.

“Should we—“ Jeremy began, looking to Lindsay, but she seemed to know what he was going to say before he did.

“Later.” She turned to Michael. “I’m curious. Mind telling me what you did at the castle?”

“I mean, I guess I can.” Michael said, ignoring their exchange. It was to be expected for them to not trust him, really, and so he’d let it slide for now. “I was in the guard, but it hadn’t always been that way…”

* * *

Reaching for his pack, Ryan retrieved the chalk that he’d used before to make the signs that he had used to speak with the oracle, moving to a clear spot on the floor as he began to trace out the new design, slowly copying it down onto the stone. His bedroll was sitting to the side of the cave, forgotten as he began to prepare for the ritual. His sleep had been dreamless, and he found himself reluctant to believe or put much stock in the words that the Oracle had told him about not listening to whatever he might hear. They’d used a demon before, and no harm had come to him or Lindsay, and this shouldn’t be different.

The design was completed after nearly an hour of time, and he carefully tucked the paper away in his pack again. Should he need to use it again, it’d be there, and he’d make sure not to forget the instructions. He’d memorized the words from it that he’d need to say, and had taken the time to copy them down again and tuck it in his pocket to be sure he’d have it recorded should he forget some of the words once he reached the other place. Other side? He wasn’t sure how to describe the alternate realm that he knew he’d be going to. It was different than the realm of the Oracle, that much he was sure of, but other than that, it was a place that was rarely mentioned in any texts, and then only in obtuse references and legends that were rarely spoken of now. Finding the Oracle had been the only way they’d ever had a chance of getting help for Lindsay, and that’d been nearly impossible as well.

This was an unfamiliar realm, and Ryan wasn’t sure how much he could do to prepare, so he stepped into the center of the design, sitting down carefully in the center, determined to jump. Knife drawn, he carefully cut his skin, letting the blood drip onto the design, the world blurring around him as his mind passed into the other realm.

Ryan found himself sitting on a patch of red hued stone, staring out across the hellish landscape, flames burning in patches across from him. Thankfully, none were near to him, so he wouldn’t need to worry about leaving his circle and could simply recite the words here. He stood, pulling the paper from his pocket as an afterthought, glancing over it again to be sure he had the words right before reciting them, their cryptic syllables difficult to pronounce. He spoke slowly, no desire to mispronounce a word and summon something different than what the Oracle’s ritual had been for, although as he thought about it, he realized that he didn’t know exactly what this would summon, or if there was a distinction between the creatures here.

When he’d finished speaking, he looked out to the strange landscape, watching as the smoke swirling from the fires slowly began to gather, forming itself into a vaguely bovine shape, slowly making its way towards him, stopping to munch on some ghostly grass as it did. By the time that it reached him it’d solidified into a form, looking, to his surprise, like a literal cow. He tried to remember what the demon they’d summoned before had looked like, remembering that it’d been far more humanoid than this one. Perhaps this change was due to the difference in the ritual and the fact that he’d be binding it to himself as opposed to the fact that before they’d simply been using the demon as a source of power and something to allow Lindsay and him to bind her magic between them. Blood had played a part in that ritual then, but it wasn’t like this, where he’d be offering himself up in order to ensnare the demon.

“ _You’re here again.”_

Ryan looked behind himself at the faint sound of the words, glancing back to see if another demon had come, but the space was still empty, and when he looked back to the cow, it’d reached the edge of the circle and stood there, sniffing. Truly, it seemed harmless, but Ryan knew remembered the words of the Oracle about the danger that this would put him in.

_“I saw you before.”_

Ryan glanced around again, then back to the cow.

“That’s you?”

_“Yes.”_ The word entered his mind quietly, slipping in, and Ryan looked to the paper again, suddenly nervous as he did.

“You know why I’m here?”

_“You don’t want to be alone.”_

Ryan flinched. “No, I need the power. It’s the only way that I have to help.”

_“Because you lost her.”_

“How—“Ryan began, breaking off. He shouldn’t listen to the demon, harmless as it might seem. He extended his hand that he’d cut to begin the ritual past the marks that’d passed over with him outside of the lines, holding it out the cow. “You’ll accept my offering?”

The cow sniffed at it, then licked at his hand. It burned where the beast touched the broken skin, the sensation spreading as it went.

_”I accept.”_

The smoke that made up the creature swirled around him, and Ryan began to recite the rest of the words to the ritual, the smoke following him back inside the circle as he retracted his hand, the cows form dissipating until all that remained was the swirling clouds that clung to him.

“I offer my name.” Ryan stated. “Ryan.”

_“And I take it.”_

The smoke swirled ever higher above him, and for an instant, Ryan saw something other than the cow that he’d seen before he’d allowed it into the circle, a man, taller than him, crowned in the horns of a bull, before the smoke rushed to him filling up his lungs until he felt that he couldn’t take another breath.

His surroundings were blurry, and when all of the smoke had disappeared into him he fell to his knees in the circle, unaware of how his hand touched the lines, smudging them, still visibly alone, but something else was different. The power that he’d lost when Lindsay had presumably fallen was back, roaring at him and connecting him firmly to a magic greater than he’d ever felt before, far rivaling what he’d had with their shared magic.

Something was in his mind. There was another presence in his mind, somehow greater and lesser than him simultaneously.

“Who—“ He forced out the word, trying to control the surge of power in his body, suddenly doubting the simple appearance that the demon had showed him, because this power was more than he’d felt before when they’d used one for the curse’s binding, overwhelming him and leaving him unsure of his ability to control it.

_“Edgar.”_

“That’s your name—you’re Edgar.” The voice was cooler now, speaking from somewhere inside him into his mind, buried deep within him and the magic in him. The ground seemed to swim before him, and again, the magic seemed to overwhelm him, washing away at him and leaving him unsure if he’d be able to control it.

_“Rest.”_ The voice—Edgar—whispered inside of him, and Ryan relented, allowing the magic to consume him entirely.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got almost two more chapters written out of the total predicted 16. Classes are currently destroying me. I'll post those two for sure, but I'm going through a patch where this isn't very fun to write and I can really see the flaws in my writing without knowing how to fix them and make it sound more mature.
> 
> I'll post those two chapters on the coming Tuesdays, but updates are probably going to be spotty after that. S/o to the eight of you who've followed the story and are in for the long haul, and I sincerely hope that updates will still be regular in the future.


	11. Bonding

Ryan wasn’t sure how to describe the sensations that filled his mind when he returned to consciousness. The magic was still painfully present, and still pushing at the forefront of his mind, making it hard to focus, but then, in a sharp shifting of his senses, he became aware of where he was, standing some distance outside of the cave, the sun shining brightly above him. Startled by the change, he fell, tumbling down, his hands catching him just before he hit the ground.

“How—“

_“I looked where you were going. You were the one who walked, I merely assisted you in exiting.”_

“No—no, no, you can’t control me.” Ryan muttered, instantly worried by the situation. “I’m not going to listen.”

The demon’s presence lessened in his mind, and the magic surged forwards again, making him dizzy, and Ryan was glad that he’d already made his way back to the ground. Shifting slowly, he sat down, attempting to wrap his mind around the presence of the magic.

“You can control it.” Ryan muttered.

_“I can. You, it seems, can’t.”_

“It’s just going to take time.”

Ryan knew that there was truth in his words. It was difficult to remember how it’d been before, years ago, when he and Lindsay had first shared her magic in exchange for control of the curse, but he was sure that it couldn’t have been easy then.

What truly worried him was the fact that he didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten there, and it didn’t add up. Was he truly so weak that the demon would be able to control him without his consent? What about the Oracle’s other warnings? Had something gone wrong with the ritual or had the markings that he’d made been flawed or incorrect?

He’d been careful, and that couldn’t have been the case, unless—He’d fallen. On the other side, when he’d fallen, he’d touched the marks that were intended to hold the demon, and if he’d smudged them then, would that have been enough to disrupt the ritual?

_“I can’t control you unless you’re willing to allow me to, as things are now.”_ The demon seemed to know his thoughts, and provided that information

“You can hear my thoughts.”

_“You’re the one who let me in.”_

“I just need the magic, I don’t need you.”

_“But you can’t control the magic. How long do you have, you think, before you need to use it? How long do you truly think that they’d risk keeping a dragon alive? How long has it been now?”_

“I don’t know.” Ryan said slowly. He’d be able to master it, he just needed to adjust to the rush of power again. “But I know that I’ll do this alone.”

_“And if they die?”_

Ryan froze, staring back towards the cave, noting that his pack was already strapped to his back, everything tucked away.

“I won’t let that happen.” He stated finally. “I know how to use the power, I just need to adjust. I’m not going to agree to anything more than what we already did.”

_“Fine. I’ll be waiting.”_

“Where would you have went? If I hadn’t woke up?”

_“Where you were going. I’m here to help you—that’s part of the deal of the ritual. I knew you’d wake eventually.”_

“Right.” Ryan stated dubiously, turning back to the cave, wanting to be sure that he had everything that he’d brought with him, and to be sure that none of the marks remained unless they be used by another.

The marks did remain, and Ryan took a moment to smudge them over, pushing dirt over the chalk with his boot and scuffing it to be sure that the lines were unreadable. Everything else did seem to have been gathered into his pack, and he pondered for a moment on why the demon would have done what it had. Probably an attempt to fool him into trusting it, to allow it into his mind.

Something in the back of his mind responded to that irritably, seemingly irritated at such a lack of trust, and it took Ryan a moment to distinguish that it wasn’t him thinking that, and that it instead was the demon’s presence, communicating with him even in its silence.

He looked over the site once again, satisfied, then set out, warily thinking of his plans for what he’d need to do once he returned, and how he’d explain his recovery whilst still hiding the truth of what had happened, and how he’d managed to regain the power. They’d found a way to discover what he’d done before, but this time he’d keep it a secret, something that he now thought that perhaps he should have done from the start.

…

Michael absently tore at a leaf that had fallen from the tree to land beside him, tearing it apart. Lindsay was lazing across the clearing, and Jeremy had followed Griffon into her domicile, cautiously asking her questions about whatever she made. It was relaxed here, in a way that the castle never had been, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about the slow pace. His legs had improved by leaps and bounds, and he was sure that actually being able to relax and rest them had helped, but the lack of action still chafed him.

Absently looking towards Lindsay, it took him a moment to notice that she wasn’t simply sitting and relaxing as she’d been a few moments before. Her position had shifted, and she’d hunched in, hands tightened into fists.

“Hey. You okay?” He called across to her after only a moment of hesitation.

“Oh—“ She looked towards him. “I’m—“ She broke off.

Michael debated his options. Go and get Griffon and Jeremy and assume that Griffon would know something to help, or wait it out and see what she was going to say. If something was really bad, then she’d’ve already called for help, so it couldn’t be something terrible.

Michael stood slowly, making his way over to Lindsay to sit down at her side, watching as she slowly thought through the words.

“I’m fine.” She eventually forced out, then continued quickly. “It’s hard, being like this, especially after so long being in control.”

“What happened? Really?”

Lindsay didn’t respond instantly, and Michael wondered if she was going to respond at all.

“We had a bond. The Vagabond and I. We did something, and it just—it helped me to control things. You heard me talking to Griffon about a curse, didn’t you?”

Michael nodded.

“It’s complicated. My parents made a deal—I don’t know the specifics—“

“I remember.” Michael interrupted. “Griffon thought that you should try to fix whatever they messed up.”

“Right.” Lindsay nodded. “But until I can do that, or get back to Ryan and we can fix it, I’m stuck like this.”

Michael thought for a moment. “I think that you said that you were like this before you found him, didn’t you? So aren’t you used to it.”

“I mean, I was once.” Lindsay nodded slowly. “But it’s been years since that, and it’s hard now to go back to what it was like before and to not be able to be the same.”

“What’s the issue? I mean, I can see the obvious.” Michael remarked, pointing to her scaly skin. “That’s easy to see. But other than that, what’s wrong?”

Michael was surprised by the fact that he genuinely did want the answer to his question, and that he was actually curious about what the other would say, and not simply for the reason that he wanted to know how to better stop her in the future. He was, somehow, genuinely curious about what Lindsay might have to say about this.

“The magic’s a thing that came with the curse.” She answered. “And alone, I can’t really use it. A human isn’t meant to be able to use the kind of magic that a dragon would have. With Ryan, he was able to help with control, and we shared the magic as a result.”

“So you’re just stuck with magic you can’t use? How would that work?”

“I honestly don’t know how to explain it.” Lindsay said. “I know how it feels to me, but it’s like—I don’t know how I could explain what it feels like.”

“So the Vagabond helped you to control it then?”

“Yeah.” Lindsay replied, back on track. “And it’s overwhelming because I can tell that it’s here now, but I don’t know how to reach it. Ryan thought that it might have been because my parents didn’t have magic, and that maybe if they had, I’d’ve been able to reach it and use it better, but because I wasn’t supposed to have it, I’m stuck here.”

“Sounds like he thought a lot of things about it.”

“Of course he did. We’re friends.” Lindsay stated reproachfully. “He cared about helping before he even knew that he could gain something from it.”

“So he gained something?”

“Power. And well, a dragon.”

“And you’re sure that he wasn’t just using you?”

“He really did care.” Lindsay stated strongly. “I was there for all of the work we did to find an answer, and I know he wanted to help even when he didn’t know what we’d do.”

“You know what I don’t get?” Michael began. “I don’t get why he’d want to help anyone.”

“That’s because you see him as the Vagabond. I know him, you don’t.”

“And you know what he’s done?”

“Michael, really, I mean, I was there for most of it. I helped him. So yeah, I’m good with him even with what he’s done.”

“He hurt innocents.”

“So? The King’s done just as bad. No one asks to be born to the old blood. Kids don’t choose who they’re born to.”

“I didn’t choose, and I still worked up to the guard even with old blood.” Michael stated pointedly.

“And look where that got you.” Lindsay stated pointedly. “Look. Let me tell you about someone we’ve got with us. You’ve got to know that there’s more out there than humans, right?”

“Right, I know that, but they don’t live in the kingdom anymore.”

“Wrong.” Lindsay stated pointedly. “Kerry. Faun. He’s where we’re going. Perfectly alive, and within the borders of the kingdom. They still live here, they’ve just gotten better at hiding. If I could fly, I could show you were at least ten different live, and I could name more.”

“Try.”

“I will. Kerry is one. Matt’s a faun too, you’ll meet him. Meg was with us in the attack, and she’s a water spirit. Caiti’s a mermaid, Tyler’s a centaur, Mariel’s a selkie, I don’t know what the Oracle is, but he’s not human, I know there’s werewolves on the northern border by the mountains, Mica’s a nymph, and Jeremy’s at least half dwarf, and that’s ten.”

“You can’t count lil’ J.” Michael said. “He’s only half dwarf, you said that.”

“He’s not all human! That totally counts!” Lindsay countered. “You didn’t specify any conditions.”

“Fine, so you can count him. You didn’t actually name a werewolf.”

“They’re solitary, usually, and not friendly. Why would I know one?”

“Well, if you’re going to count them as one or your ten, then you’ve got to know them.” Michael remarked indignantly.

“But I know that they’re there!” Lindsay insisted. “Same with dwarves! If one managed to be Jeremy’s father, then there’s got to be more! They’ve got to count for more than ten.”

“Fine. So you know more than ten. Why haven’t I ever seen any?”

“That’s obvious.” Lindsay said. “Really. Because they’d be dead if they were somewhere that they’d be seen.”

“Fine, so you’ve got a point there. When I meet Kerry, I’ll believe you. How’s that?”

“Good.” Lindsay said to him, looking significantly cheerier than she had before he’d come over to talk to her. “You’ll meet him, and then you’ll agree with me.”

“We’ll see when we meet Kerry!” Michael said. “What if he’s disappointing? Or isn’t a faun at all?”

“Please, you’re doubting me?” Lindsay said. “I’m right. You’ll see.”


	12. Reunions

Ray stared out from his perch on the outer walls of the ruin, bored. Somewhere in the trees below, there was something dead, presumably a bird based on the size, although he couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, it had more potential to be of interest than sitting here and waiting for something to happen. True, there were clear benefits to being here that he wouldn’t deny, but everything just seemed to lack the energy and activity that had been found at the castle. There was some activity from the others here, but nothing much for him to do personally. Ryan hadn’t bothered to tell him much before he’d left, and so he’d been stuck sitting and waiting.

Miles and Kerry had approached him once, offering him a chance to train with them, but he’d turned them down. He wasn’t particularly interested in getting to know anyone here, but he supposed that when Ryan returned from whatever he’d been going to do he’d decide what exactly his plans were and what he would do with his newfound freedom. There were friends that he missed back at the castle, and he realized that it wasn’t likely that he’d ever see them again, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He couldn’t do anything about it till Ryan returned short of simply leaving, and he knew that he’d not be able to find his way back alone, and that doing so would only end in his own suffering. He was slowly becoming keenly aware that while he’d left one type of servitude, he’d found himself in another situation that he couldn’t leave without the assistance of another, and that irritated him.

Ray turned his attention again to the dead thing that he’d sensed out in the trees, flicking a spark of his magic into it and summoning the creature to him. It took a moment, but before too long a skeletal bird came hopping along the ground, mostly decayed and rotted. Satisfied with the knowledge of what it was, he let it wander, knowing that the magic that’d reanimated it would expire within a few minutes.

Ryan had been curious about his abilities when they’d first been traveling to the ruins and had asked how exactly he’d done what he’d done back at the castle, and Ray honestly hadn’t been sure how to explain it. It’d simply been something that he’d always been able to do, even as a child, but on a much smaller scale, and he’d not hidden it as he should have, and they’d brought him to the castle to serve as a result. They’d been afraid enough of him to largely leave him alone except when they needed his services, and then he’d been willing to do what they needed.

How he did it though, he couldn’t explain or teach. They’d had him try to explain it to the other mages that served there, but none of them had been able to sense the dead as he had, and as a result none had been able to imitate his gift. It seemed that the ability to sense the dead where they lay somehow connected him to them more than others, and in turn he was able to use his brand of magic to awaken them temporarily to serve him.

Ray picked up a stone from where it lay beside him, tossing it out into the forest, glancing back at the skeleton of the bird that’d now slowed to a stop, slumping down on the ground. He looked out again, watching for any activity in the forest or sign of Ryan’s possible return.

* * *

Ryan approached the ruins with care, slowing his pace as he debated exactly what he’d tell Ashley and the others. If Jack was still there, he’d demand an explanation, and Ryan doubted that Jack would be happy with the thought of consorting with demons. Edgar seemed to take offense at that thought, but Ryan pushed him away, focusing on the path before him. It’d be best to leave out the actual fact that the thing was a demon, and simply describe it as a magical creature from the other side of things. They’d all heard something about the process that they’d bound Lindsay’s curse with before, so it wouldn’t be completely unfamiliar, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake of oversharing again. If there truly was a traitor in their midst, then he’d need to be careful. Perhaps a council of those who he was sure could be trusted, and then he’d be able to attempt to watch their actions and determine if any of them had betrayed them, and then he’d be able to narrow the margin of error for this.

He’d done some thinking, and he seriously doubted that whoever the spy might be would have been able to communicate with someone at the castle without some form of magic, and if he was be able to control the magic that he now had, he’d hopefully be able to sense any use of magic that might indicate that.

Actually using the magic that he had, however, was another matter entirely. While he’d been able to improve his control somewhat, the majority of the power in his grasp still somehow managed to escape him when he attempted to flex it as he knew he should be able to do so. Edgar still insisted that he’d be able to assist and allow him to use it if he was willing to allow him in, but Ryan disliked the idea of allowing the other any power.

Still, if that additional control would allow him to discover the traitor—

“I want to make a deal.” He began slowly.

_“You needn’t say it out loud. I’ve been waiting.”_

_“I want to make a deal.” Ryan thought._

_“You want me to find the traitor.”_

_“I know it’s possible to sense if magic is used. I’ve done it before, on a smaller scale, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to encompass all of the ruins with what I can use of the magic.”_

_“And so you’re coming to me.”_

_“I am.”_

_“What are you willing to give in return?”_

Ryan wasn’t sure what to think of that, or what to say in return. He was well aware of what the Oracle had told him about making deals, but really, could the demon do that much with a simple word from him? Would just agreeing to something really allow the other to do anything terrible? Truly, he doubted that it would, and even if that was to be the case, he wouldn’t offer the other anything important.

_“What do you want?”_ Ryan thought to the other.

_“I simply want your word that you’ll allow me to control the magic in order to do so.”_

_“It’s as simple as that, and you’ll help me?”_

_“Of course. I am here to help, after all.”_

“Then I, Ryan, will allow you, Edgar, to control the magic to see if anyone’s spying.” Ryan spoke the words out loud, doubting that they’d do much, but as he spoke them, he felt the shape of the magic that bombarded him shifting, falling into something more manageable as some of it disappeared, presumably under the control of Edgar.

_“Should anyone attempt to betray you, you’ll know.”_

“Good.” With that, Ryan increased his pace, continuing forward.

The ruins came into view soon, and as he approached he spotted Ray, perched on a wall, watching the forest.

“Ray!” Ryan called out, then paused, uncertain as to what to say to the other.

Ray nodded to him, and hopped down from the wall, walking to Ryan. “Hey. You’re back. So did whatever you were doing work?”

“Yes.”Ryan confirmed, making up his mind as to who he’d talk to first. “Did Kerry show you where we hold council?”

“Yeah, he did.” Ray said. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to tell Kerry to gather some others, then I’ll meet you there.”

“Gotcha.” Ray nodded. “I’ll be waiting.” He shuffled away after a few moments, and Ryan strode purposefully towards the front of the ruins, hearing the cries of someone who must have been on watch as he did. Kerry was waiting by the time that he arrived, and he was ready with his instructions.

“Tell Ashley and Matt to come for council, then meet us there.” Ryan stated. He’d start there, with those who he hoped that he’d be able to trust, then he’d progress onwards from them.

“Right.” Kerry said. “Did it work? What did the Oracle tell you?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Ryan stated carefully.

“Okay!” Kerry replied, still seemingly excited by his return.

Ryan moved onwards, surreptitiously looking around before moving towards the council area.

_“Anything?”_ He thought at Edgar.

_“Nothing yet.”_ Came the reply.

Ray was waiting for him  when he arrived at the council room after stopping to leave his pack in his chambers, and Matt arrived a moment after he did, pestering him with questions about what had took place and what the Oracle’s advice had been. Kerry arrived a few minutes after that, followed by Ashley, and much to Ryan’s displeasure, Burnie as well. He was prepared to tell the other to leave, but the appearance of the other was accompanied by the sudden resurgence of the magic that Edgar had claimed for his task. For a moment the sensation overwhelmed him, and much to his displeasure, Kerry seemed to notice the change, taking a quick step towards him as if to assist. Ryan straightened up quickly, and without any explanation from Edgar the excess magic disappeared, leaving Ryan attempting to cover for whatever had just happened.

Ryan was jolted back to the situation at hand as Ashley approached him. He brushed Kerry’s attention off, and after a moment, he decided that he’d allow Burnie to stay for at least this, but he’d reveal less, and perhaps even intentionally mislead those here and tell them any other details once they parted ways.

“I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve brought you here.” He said. “With the exception of you, Burnie.”

Ashley looked apologetic at that.

“I was successful in contacting the Oracle.” He chose his words carefully. “And I’ve got reason to believe that it should be possible to rescue Meg and Lindsay.”

“But what did you learn?” Ashley asked.

“I’ll elaborate on that later.”

“So you got your magic back?” Ashley continued to press the subject.

“I’ve got something. However, given what they knew before, I’m not going to blather it everywhere. Just know that I’ve got what we need.”

Burnie looked disgruntled and Ryan knew that Ashley would pursue the topic later, but for now they’d listen to this.

“Are you going alone?” Kerry asked.

“No.” Ryan replied. “Ray, if you’re willing, I’d like you to come along. Your powers would be highly advantageous.”

Ray shrugged at that, seeming not to care. Ryan would have to be sure to talk to him more later, to be sure that he was truly okay with coming along, but for now it’d do.

“And Ashley. I’ll have you hang back as backup, but I want you long too. We’ll bring Mica and Andy—Both of them aren’t known there, so that’ll give us an advantage.”

“I want to go.” Burnie stated, inserting himself into the conversation. “If Ashley’s going, then I am.”

Ryan hesitated. Edgar would’ve surely told him if Burnie was a danger, and the other man would be a valuable ally.

“Fine. But you’ll hang back with Ashley.”

One more name crossed his mind, of someone who’d be able to blend in without much work and who also wasn’t known to their enemy.

“Kerry, do you think that Miles would be willing to come?”

“I mean, I don’t see why he wouldn’t.” Kerry replied easily. “I’d go too, but I mean, Matt and I would really stand out.”

“Exactly.” Ryan nodded to Kerry and Matt. “So long as we’re careful, none of us will be recognized until we’re in. We’ve got an agent at the castle who’ll help us if we send in Mica, Miles, or Andy to contact her. It’ll be in and out quickly, and we’ll focus on getting our own back.”

_“You could do more with my help.”_ Edgar inserted, but Ryan ignored him.

“Seems sound enough.” Ashley said. “So long as you’re up to it. Stealth should be safer.”

“Then we’ll meet back here in an hour. I’ll speak to everyone and give instructions, and we’ll move from there. Kerry, you tell Miles. Matt, you find Mica and Andy.”

“And I’ll talk to you, Ryan.” Ashley interjected. “I’ve still got some questions that I need to ask about what you did.”

“Fine.” Ryan replied. “But Burnie’s leaving.”

“Deal.” Ashley agreed.

Matt and Kerry made their way from the room, shortly followed by Ray who wandered out, then by Burnie, after a pointed glance from Ashley.

The two of them now alone, Ashley looked pointedly to Ryan.

“What happened with the Oracle?”

“I spoke with him.”

“And?” Ashley crossed her arms.

“He asked about you and Meg.”

“And you told him how you’d messed up?”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault!” Ryan declared. “Besides. He said we’ve got a spy.”

“And he told you who?”

“…No.”

“So what’re you doing about it?”

“Well, I may have gotten some help. From someone.”

“Who?” Ashley was still staring pointedly at him, waiting for an explanation, and Ryan knew that he’d need to tell her the whole story, and that she wouldn’t like it.

“You know how we bound Lindsay’s curse before, right?”

“…Yes, and?”

“There was a demon?” Ryan stated meekly, waiting for the coming explosion.

“Ryan.” Ashley stated, seemingly pained. “You summoned another demon?”

“Well, I mean, technically—well,” he paused, trying to think of a way out of this. “Well, yeah. I did.”

Ashley put her hands on her hips. “Is that all?”

“AndIboundittomyself.” Ryan forced out the words quickly. “And it’s not even a problem, and I’ve got more magic than before, and it’s plenty to go in and save Meg and Lindsay, and maybe—maybe even enough to do more than that! Ashley, it’s great.”

“Ryan.” Ashley firmly stated. “You mean to tell me that you, on the word of the Oracle, something that we barely understand, you went and summoned and bound a demon, something else that you can’t possibly understand. I’ve heard the legends and stories about demons, and you know none of them are good.”

“Really, it’s not that bad! He’s helpful so far, and—“

“He’s helpful? Ryan, come on.”

“Ashley, look. No matter what you think, he’s stuck with me now. And besides, if he gives me the power I need, then it’s totally worth it!”

“Ryan, you don’t know that!”

“What about Lindsay and Meg? What am I supposed to do, just leave them?”

“No, but you’re supposed to talk with me before you do something stupid. You could’ve asked Matt, you know that he’s studied the Oracle and the other side.”

“Ashley, I don’t know who I can trust. I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

“Then why are you?” She challenged him.

“Because he’s helping me with this.”

“The demon?”

“Yeah. Before, with Lindsay’s magic, I was able to sense if there was magic being used. Now, I can do even more, so if someone tries to use magic to share information, I’ll know.”

“Ryan, I don’t like any of this.” Ashley stated.

“And I don’t like thinking that we might have a spy. Ashley, it could’ve been you. You could’ve sold us out easily.”

“Why would I have left then?”

“I don’t know, so you could get more information!” Ryan threw his hands up in frustration. “You’ve got to see why I’m doing this!”

“I see why you’re doing it, Ryan!” Ashley replied, growing angry. “I just want you to be sure that there’s still some part of you left when all of this ends! I don’t want you to destroy yourself for a cause that might fail!”

“Is that what you think?” Ryan’s voice dropped. “You think that we’ll fail?” He turned away from her, pacing the length of the room. “Ashley, I don’t care if I fail, but know this—I will die trying for this cause, and no sacrifice is too great to ensure that things are righted.”

“Fine.” Ashley said.

“Fine?”

“I’m not going to tell you that what you’re doing is stupid, because you already know what I think. Just know that I disagree, and that while I’ll help you do anything to save Meg and Lindsay, there are lines that I won’t cross, and that with that—that demon—you’ve crossed one.”

“Fine.” Ryan stated irritably. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare.” He left the room in a huff, passing Burnie lurking down the hall. He ignored the other man, thinking to Edgar.

_“Have you found anything?”_

_“You mentioned Miles. What do you know about him?”_

_“Not much. He’s old blood, but with no magic. He’s close with Kerry. Why?”_

_“He’s using something that you ought to check, if he truly professes to have no magic.”_

_“Is Kerry with him?”_

_“No. He’s communicating with someone, and the spell’s complicated.”_

_“Where?”_

Edgar outlined the path to Miles in his mind, leading him to an abandoned room in a far corner of the ruins, and as he ran, his anger built. Miles hadn’t ever been someone that he’d been close too, but Kerry had been close with him. Miles had been someone who they’d accepted on his word alone, and if he’d betrayed them—

_“Then you’ll prevent him from ever doing such a thing again.”_

 —then Ryan would find a way to make him pay for what he had done, and all would be well again.

As he grew closer, Ryan determined how he would be sure of the truth of what Edgar had said to him. He shouldn’t trust the other, and if Miles truly was speaking to someone outside their group, he should be able to sense it if he was to focus and to attempt to sense just the one thing.

_“Give me the control.”_ Ryan ordered the other, and with an air of reluctance, Edgar relinquished the control of the magic, giving it back to Ryan.

It took a moment for him to focus on the tide of magic and to gather a scrap of it to himself to use, but once he had it in his control, he cast the portion of it that he controlled out, feeling carefully for what was taking place in the room that was a few yards away. Edgar had been telling the truth, there was something taking place in the room before him, and there was a source of magic that couldn’t be Miles, an object of some sort that was creating the distortion in the net of magic that Ryan had cast out.

He focused it on the spell, muttering a few words under his breath that would allow him to hear the words spoken in the room before him, allowing the first spell to slip from his grasp to listen to tell what might be being said in the room. The effect wasn’t immediate, and the results were difficult to hear and sounded as if the speaker was whispering them, but were unmistakably coming from Miles.

“...Leaving soon, but… don’t know when—“

Then a pause, followed by the sound of another, unfamiliar voice.

“…about the Oracle?”

A noise of confirmation from Miles.

“Yeah. Something, but they don’t know yet. Kerry didn’t…”

Then the unfamiliar voice spoke again. “…Tomorrow, regular time…for orders.”

_“Haven’t you heard enough?”_ Edgar inquired, urging Ryan forward.

He had.

Ryan stepped forward and into the room, Miles jumping as he did, fumbling with and nearly dropping the object that he held.

“Oh, hey, Ryan!” Miles went to shove the object that he was holding back into a small pouch, and Ryan felt time seemingly slow with a word from Edgar.

_“What will you do to stop him?”_ An image of Lindsay and Meg was conjured up from his memory and Ryan felt a flash of anger, something that he wasn’t sure of the origin of, himself or Edgar, and he surged forwards, moving to grab the item, realizing it to be a mirror that for a fraction of an instant held the image of something other than himself when he looked into it, showing an unfamiliar hooded figure that disappeared as the glass clouded over for a moment, then cleared again.

“What did you do?” Ryan looked to Miles, the other man having shrunk back towards the broken stone wall that made up the far side of the room, scanning the edges of the room, looking for an escape.

Another memory, this time of the disconnect and pain that he’d felt upon his separation from Lindsay, flashed into his mind, dredged up by Edgar, and he found himself spurred forwards towards Miles. The other scrambled for his weapon, a sword, and Ryan clenched his fist, the magic finally flowing easily to him in his anger, a jerk of his hand sending the offending weapon clattering across the room and leaving Miles largely defenseless.

“You dared,” Ryan began, “To come here, among us, and to violate a place of safety and to claim that you were searching for sanctuary with us. You were trusted.”

“Ryan, buddy, I don’t know what you mean.” Miles stated nervously. “I don’t know what you heard, but—“

“I heard more than enough.” Ryan said menacingly, raising his fist high. “Did you begin to think of the damage you would do with your betrayal, or did you never care?”

_“Finish him.”_ Edgar urged, and Ryan froze for a fraction of a moment, then felt himself pushed forwards to the man who he’d once considered an ally, the force of the demon inside of him allowing him no room for any other actions. He felt the power start to build, the beginnings of a spell forming on his lips.

Miles darted, weapon forgotten, diving towards a gap in the walls of the ruin, and Ryan let the power that he held discharge, the spell sending a bolt of energy towards Miles, hitting the bricks and scorching them. Ryan charged after the other, something in him or Edgar blasting the gap open wider to allow him to move out and after the other, Miles already having taken advantage of his head start. Another bolt of energy charging, Ryan followed quickly after him, letting it fly only to narrowly miss him.  Miles let out a yelp at he sprinted to the side, heading for the forest and what he undoubtedly knew might be temporary safety for him, if he was to be able to find a way to escape Ryan.

Ryan surged forwards, magic crackling around him as he moved, composing the parts of a spell he couldn’t recall learning, gathering it together until with a single indecipherable word it all came out, tearing through him, pulling the magic with it as it tore forwards. It moved on until it reached Miles, then rose, a glimmering wave of energy that swept over him, encompassing him completely, then it stopped, Miles tumbling down to the ground as Ryan bore down towards him.

There was a ringing in his ears in the aftermath of the spell, and a moment passed before Ryan heard the scream that was coming from Miles, something drawn out and strangled, and something in his mind shifted. Ryan stumbled back from Miles, looking at his hands, then frantically towards the ruins. Someone, a guard, was charging towards them, and Ryan tensed, frantically trying to think of what to say, how to explain the way that Miles had screamed, or a way to explain the fact that Miles had stopped moving now, or why Ryan had chased after him without attempting to tell anyone else what had happened.

_“Tell them the truth—that he was a traitor.”_ Edgar offered. _“Tell them what he did, and act like the leader that you are. How many men have you killed before this?”_

Ryan froze at that, slowly looking to Miles and seeing that he had stopped moving completely, then looked back to the guard who was now a few yards away, then straightened his back, steeling his resolve and preparing to say what needed to be said.


	13. Travel

“Ryan, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me why you killed Miles, and that it was you who made the decision.”

“Ashley, I was the one who killed Miles.” Ryan spoke quietly, looking at Ashley as he did, ducking his head down and under a branch as his horse plodded onwards and brought him dangerously close to a limb.  “It was me, and was my own choice. He was trying to share information about what we were doing, and you know how important it is that we stop any spies.”

“But killing him? Really, Ryan?”

“Ashley, look. It was a spur of the moment thing, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop him.” Ryan said, knowing that this conversation would’ve had to come sooner or later. They’d managed to leave as soon as they could after the incident with Miles, but he’d not done much to explain the incident to anyone, only giving the basics of the situation, just enough to prevent questions from most. Ashley hadn’t asked him anything till now, and he supposed that he’d been lucky that she’d at the very least waited till they were alone to question him.

“So you straight up killed him? Ryan,” she lowered her voice, “this is what I mean.”

“Ashley, we’ve all killed for this before.”

“But not one of us.”

“He wasn’t one of us.”

Ashley didn’t seem to be appeased by what he’d said, but she let the subject drop. Taking that to be a sign that this was his chance to escape the conversation, Ryan rode ahead to where Mica and Andy where chattering. He could feel Ashley staring him down as he did, and a quick glance back told him that Burnie had rode up and taken his spot by her, and that Ray was still trailing in the back of the pack. Of all of them, Ryan was the only one who knew the path that they were taking the best, and while Andy and Mica had some idea of part of the direction, neither of them had traveled the entire way to the city before. He was responsible for all of their welfare, and the reality of the situation weighed heavily on him.

Edgar had been mercifully silent, and Ryan had some progress with the magic as they’d traveled. He’d used it for subtle things, listening in on his surroundings to be sure that they were alone, but it’d been willing to allow him to do what he needed to do without much trouble. There had been a few snide comments from Edgar once or twice, but other than that he’d been alone with his thoughts.

“Ryan, settle this for us.” Mica spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “Andy thinks that they might be able to detect us at the city. He’s worried. They won’t be able to, right?”

“Well,” Ryan began, grateful for the distraction. “There’s a chance that they might recognize any of us, really, except you and Andy. You two are the only ones that haven’t been there yet, and I’d be more surprised if they didn’t recognize me. Surely they’ll have branded Ray as a traitor by now, and they’ll be on the watch for Ashley and Burnie, but they’ll be hanging back.

“So we’re good, right?” Andy said.

“You’re good.” Ryan replied. “They’re not going to recognize what either of you are, so long as you don’t reveal it.”

“I’m honestly excited.” Mica stated. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to go there, but for obvious reasons I never went.”

“You’ll have to tell me what you think of it once it’s all over.” Ryan stated. “I’m curious.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if it’ll live up to what we’ve heard about like, how big it is? Or how many people there are there.” Mica said.

Andy nodded in agreement, and Ryan glanced back to Ray again.

“You two are good to lead for now?”

“Yup! We’ve got this, for now.” Andy stated, and Ryan directed his horse to the side, letting Mica and Andy take the lead again, allowing Ashley and Burnie to pass him as well. When Ray reached him, Ryan nudged his horse into action again, moving along with the other.

“Ray,” Ryan began. “How’re you holding up?”

“Huh?”

“How are you?” Ryan stated again.

“Oh. I mean, I’m fine. Just chill.”

Ryan squinted at the other for a moment, debating if he was being honest or not, or if he really didn’t care. They still hadn’t truly had much time to talk since everything had happened, so this would be a good opportunity for them to do so.

“Well, that’s good.” He eventually said, nodding to him, thinking of what to ask. “Anyone you’re hoping to see when we get there?”

Ray didn’t answer for a moment, riding in silence. “I guess? But I don’t really expect to see anyone, I mean, we’re not exactly going on a social call, and if I was able to see anyone, they’d probably have to try to stop me.”

“But you do have friends then?”

“I guess?”

Ryan paused, thinking.  The more potential allies that he had, the better off they’d be. “Anyone who’d be willing to help us?”

“…I don’t think so.” Ray finally said. “Unless things looked pretty drastic, they’d all stick to the other side.”

_“Ask him if they’d still side with your enemies if they were truly losing.”_

Ryan jumped slightly at the words from Edgar, surprised at the intrusion.

“Even if we were to take the castle?”

“You planning on doing that?”

“…No, not now. But in the future we could.”

“Then I don’t know. When you’re faced with something like that, you don’t know what you’ll do till it happens. I guess if I ever had the time, I’d like to at least ask. I don’t know if they’d stay or go, but I think that I’d at least trust them enough to ask. I don’t think they’d take me in for that much.”

“Maybe when we’ve fixed things up with Lindsay and Meg, we could try.” Ryan offered. “I’ve got the magic, and if we’ve really got rid of the spy, infiltrating would be possible.”

“I’d like that.” Ray said.

“Good. Then we’ll try, when they’re back.”

* * *

“And you’re sure that they feel fine?”

“I am.” Michael stated, nodding to Griffon. “As good as before.”

“Then my work is done.” She nodded, stepping back. “And you’re good to leave.”

“I guess we are.” Michael stated, glancing down at his legs. The only sign of his previous injuries was the scarring that remained where the skin had been torn, but even that had faded more than it ever possibly could have without the influence of magic and whatever Griffon had done.

“You better go tell your friends that. As nice as having visitors has been, I’ve got to get back to work. There are things that I need to do.”

“Fair enough.” Michael nodded, standing and moving towards the door. Lindsay and Jeremy were outside, and he’d seen them whispering about something before Griffon had called him in to look at his legs, and he didn’t doubt that they were still keeping secrets from him, but really, he couldn’t blame them entirely.

Upon exiting the door, he spotted Lindsay and Jeremy standing across the clearing.  When he let the door shut behind him they both looked towards him, whatever conversation they’d been having ending.

“Griffon says I’m good to go.” Michael said to them, making his way over. “And it sounds like she’d like us to leave sooner than later.

“We’ll leave tomorrow then, if she’s good with that.” Lindsay said. “That’ll give us time to get ready, and hopefully we’ll have time to gather some supplies.”

“You mean like, gather nuts and roots?” Jeremy asked.

“I mean, if we can find anything. I know some things that can be found, and we might have some luck with setting traps. Hunting’s usually a little easier as a dragon.”

“I can see that.” Michael stated. “Flying would help.”

“If you can imagine that.” Lindsay replied. “I’ll go talk with Griffon, and we’ll see if she’s willing to let us stay another night. It’s getting late, and I’d rather that we’re able to get as far as we can the first night.”

“Good plan.” Jeremy nodded, and Lindsay turned and moved towards the door.

“You’re still all chill with this?” Michael took her place, speaking to Jeremy.

“Yeah. I mean, we always knew things weren’t right, and I feel sorta like this must be destiny. We’ll get a chance to do what we need to do to make thing better.”

Michael wasn’t sure if he agreed with Jeremy’s somewhat more idealistic view of the situation, but he wasn’t going to tell the other that he was wrong. If he wanted to believe that they were getting some magical opportunity to make things better, he’d let him.

“Sure.” Michael nodded. “It’ll work out, either way. Might as well give this a shot.”

“But you’re not entirely sold on it?” Jeremy asked.

“It’s all new. It’s going to take time to get used to this.” Michael gestured around him. “How much more and how different it is. Lindsay was telling me about some of the other things that’re out there, and I don’t know what to think.”

“I want to see it all.” Jeremy stated. “There’s so much more!”

“Yeah, I guess.” Michael said. “Hey, either way, I’m along for the ride now. We’ll see how things go.”

The door opened again, Lindsay and Griffon emerging from it.

“You’re all good to stay tonight.” Griffon stated. “I’ll see you off in the morning, and I can recommend a few spots to look for provisions.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy said. “Can we help with anything else?”

“You’ve already done what I needed you to.” Griffon stated.

“With the tavern owner? Geoff? He didn’t even know who I was talking about when I told him that you sent me.”

“He wouldn’t now.” Griffon said.

“But he might have some other time?” Jeremy asked.

“I think that you ought to be searching for supplies.” Griffon stated firmly, turning to Lindsay. “If you’ll follow me, I can show you some spots.

Jeremy looked disappointed at the change of topic, but didn’t move to bring up the topic again, seeming to realize that letting it slide was the best for now.

“Right.” Lindsay said. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iT'S FINALS WEEK AND I'M DYING AND TOTALLY FORGOT TO POST THIS YESTERDAY WHOOPS
> 
> There's three chapters to go after this if all goes according to my plan, and the next is one of my personal favorites. I don't have it finished yet, so there's a chance that with finals and all I might not get it up till after the end of the semester, but we'll see!


	14. Interlude Three

Elyse stood as quietly as she could, slipping out of bed to stand on the cold stone floor. She dressed as silently as she could, everything that she thought that she might need already placed there hours before. James would sleep soundly, she was sure of that. He’d been drinking—they all had, with the exception of Bruce and herself—so this would go well. There would be guards outside the door, she knew that, there for her own protection, but if Bruce was there when she left, they wouldn’t think anything of it. She’d refused to give Bruce the details of what she planned to do, and as much as she disliked lying to him, she knew that his loyalty about this would be to James, so lying was all she could do.

She’d simply told him that she needed the alone time, that she was sick and tired of being locked out of meetings and followed by guards everywhere she went, and that she simply wanted free time where she could truly be alone. He’d agreed, albeit reluctantly at first, but this was what she needed to do. Something had gone wrong a few days before in yet another meeting that she’d not been allowed in, resulting in Joel riding out and refusing to tell her what’d happened to insert a wrench into James’ plans. Security had been tightened after that, but Bruce had to know that she could take care of herself, and if he trusted her enough to leave her alone in the library, with himself stationed outside, then she’d be able to force this to work.

Opening the door silently, she slipped out, noting the presence of the two guards. She nodded to them, trying to appear as casual as she could.

“I—erm—I need some fresh air.” She stated lamely, and one of them nodded, and neither of them moved. It was a few minutes after that waiting in awkward silence before Bruce appeared, and when he did, she nodded to the guards.

“I will be returning within the hour. Or so.”

A few words from Bruce, and the guards seemed to accept this, and neither of them moved away when she and Bruce moved down the passageway.

“You’re still sure you want to do this?” Bruce asked her quietly as they walked.

“I told you Bruce, I need my private time!” Elyse declared, playing the part she’d created for herself. “And I can’t seem to get it any other time, so I’m going to get it this way! This is James’ fault, really, for trying to be so secretive. I need this too.”

“Really, you could just talk to James.”

“He’s the one who needs to talk to me!”

Bruce shook his head at that, but didn’t say anything else, and they continued in silence.

The doors to the library were locked, and Bruce entered with her, making a circuit of the library before relenting and retreating to the door.

“I’ll give you an hour, and if I hear anything, I’ll come in.” He warned, moving to stand outside the door.

“C’mon, Bruce. I’ll be fine!” Elyse stated cheerfully. “You don’t need to worry about any of this!”

“Elyse, really. We’re just trying to keep you safe.”

“Bruce, I’m perfectly capable!” Elyse insisted, pushing the doors shut. “I’ve got this!”

The door shut, leaving Bruce outside, and Elyse alone. She dawdled for a few minutes, flipping through a book and reassuring herself that Bruce really was going to give her the hour, and then she went into action. She moved to the back of the library, going to the locked gate that blocked access to a certain section of the library, where the banned books that detailed magic and the forbidden details of the art, extracting the key from her pocket. She’d borrowed a copy from Peake a few days ago, telling him that he really ought to let her at least look at those books, and perhaps out of pity at her recent exclusion, he’d given it to her, allowing her access to a part of the library she’d only been allowed into a few other times, and upon one such time, she’d been with Joel, assisting him in investigating some of the hidden passageways that riddled the castle.

What Peake didn’t know was that in one corner, behind a particularly imposing painting of a bearded man dressed in furs, there was a hidden passageway, which would allow her to access other areas of the castle. The myriad of passageways that were contained were largely kept secret, except from those who needed the information, and this had led to her having an extensive knowledge of them to potentially escape through should she ever need to, but as the fact of her knowledge was largely kept secret, it would allow her to put her plan into action.

Once she was sure that the passage was still openable and that she was able to wedge it open with a chair, she returned to the main area of the library, retrieving a hidden dagger that she’d stashed the day before in a dusty corner, hidden in the cloak that she’d worn earlier, complaining about the cold. It’d provide her with some degree of anonymity, but it was still likely that if she was seen she’d be stopped and questioned.

Now armed, she retreated into the passageway, estimating that she’d have at least half an hour before Bruce went in to check on her, and then it’d take him longer to discover where exactly she’d gone. There was the chance that she’d be able to return without detection, but she wasn’t particularly worried about being caught. So long as she achieved her goal first, she’d be fine with that outcome.

She made her way down the passage, feeling her way along. It took longer than she thought that it should have and she’d just begun to worry when her hands hit a wooden panel in the wall, and she carefully slid it to the side, heart pounding as it opened. It wasn’t likely that anyone would be on the other side, but still, if she was seen, there would be questions that she’d have to answer and her plan would be thwarted.

She stepped out slowly, creeping down the hall, the only light coming faintly through a window, the moon outside providing her only guide. She let the tapestry that covered the wooden panel fall back over it, not bothering slide it shut. She’d either make it back through or not, and if she was to make it back unseen, then having it already open would help her.

Elyse tightly gripped the dagger, sweaty hands making it slippery. As she walked, she ducked back into a niche in the wall, drying her hands on her cloak, then gripping the dagger again. She slipped back out, creeping along, avoiding the places where she knew that there would be guards, and trying to avoid any others that she glimpsed. There would be more where Meg was kept, she knew that, but they’d listen to her for long enough that she’d be able to stop them, assuming all went well.

Before she rounded the final corner, Elyse paused, carefully tucking the dagger away, then shrugged her hood off. She strode forwards as purposefully as she could, rubbing her hands together as she went. There were two men standing guard outside the door, one of them looking as if he was very nearly asleep, the other staring the other way, but as she approached they both stood at attention, the more awake of the two elbowing his neighbor sharply.

“Your majesty,” the first began quickly, shifting his feet, “you’re not supposed to be out.”

“Then one of you should probably escort me back!” Elyse said, forcing a smile.

The two men exchanged a confused look, debating if remaining at their post was more important than being sure that Elyse was safe, and as they exchanged their glance, Elyse continued.

“You should escort me back, really.” She paused, praying that this would work. “Or, you should listen to your Queen, and respect what I say.”

She stood as tall as she could, trying not to fidget as she did, hoping that they’d listen, and after a moment, the formerly sleepy guard nodded.

“What do you need?”

The other man elbowed him again, seemingly disagreeing about what needed to be done, and Elyse interjected.

“I need to speak with the prisoner. That’s all. I’m not going to ask you to do anything wrong, I just want to talk.”

“Why couldn’t you have come some other time?” The suspicious guard asked.

“Because, it’s important that it’s kept secret that I’m speaking with her!” Elyse insisted, eyeing the key on one’s belt. “Now, are you going to listen to me, or not?”

The two exchanged another hesitant glance, Elyse tensed. She didn’t have the time for this, but if they wouldn’t listen, then her plan would likely fail or be cut short.

She looked back and forth between them again, then jerked her fist forwards, punching the more suspicious of the two men in the side of the head.  She was rusty, she knew that, and hadn’t trained nearly as much as she ought to have, but she wasn’t defenseless. The man dropped, and Elyse internally thanked the fact that Joel had insisted that she train till she was somewhat competent.

The remaining man went for his sword, and Elyse extricated her own dagger, standing as straight as she could, looking him firmly in the eyes.

“Open the door for me, now.”

The guard was hesitant, doubting her instruction.

“I said now!” Elyse continued, hoping that her voice wasn’t shaking, and that she truly sounded as if she knew her purpose. “If you harm me,” she continued, “you’ll be killed. Now open the door.”

The man seemed to debate his options, then slowly let his sword slide back into its sheath, and stepped towards the door. As he moved, Elyse followed closely, dagger at the ready, shaking slightly. He opened the door slowly, glancing back at Elyse as he did, debating his own options. Once the door was unlocked, he stepped back, staring at her.

“I need you to stand guard.” Elyse said. “You’re loyal to me, and the crown, and I need you to stay out here.”

“What about—“ the guard gestured to his fallen comrade, and Elyse lunged for the door, yanking it open and shoving the man to the ground.

“Meg!” She called as she did, using the name she’d heard from others, and from her questions that she’d pestered Lord Free with the previous day. “Meg!”

The other woman burst from the room, staring at the situation before her, the fallen guard, Elyse, and the remaining guard, who’d begun to stand, preparing to run.

“Please, Meg, just listen. I’m here to help, I want to help, but he’ll warn them.” Elyse gestured awkwardly, taking a step away from the woman to be sure she understood the situation. “I can’t stop him alone, at least I don’t think that I can, and—“

She broke off as Meg moved, darting forwards to catch the man who’d begun to sprint away, delivering a sound kick to his midsection, fluidly drawing his sword from his sheath to arm herself, pointing it at the man as he fell.

“You.” Meg began coolly. “Stand.”

The guard stood, and Elyse could see the beads of sweat that had begun to form on his head and the confusion on his face.

“You—“ He looked to Elyse. “But—“

 “In the room, now.” Meg said, and the man hesitantly obeyed, held at the point of his own sword. “If you’re helping me,” she began, glancing to Elyse, “then drag him in.”

Elyse hesitated for a moment, then obeyed, tucking her dagger away again, awkwardly moving and grabbing the fallen guard’s arm, dragging him to the door of the room, shoving him in.

“Hand me the key, or I kill him.” Meg gestured to the fallen guard, and Elyse wondered for a moment if the woman would take action, but the guard who still remained tossed the key forwards, and Elyse grabbed it, then backed quickly out of the room to stand by Meg.

“Shut the door.” Meg ordered, and Elyse quickly obeyed, locking it and tucking the key away when she was done.

The severity of what she’d done began to sink in as she stared at Meg, the other woman gazing back at her, seemingly unsure as to what to say now. They’d know what she had done know. James would be aware of her treason, and there would be no way to escape a consequence in this.

Elyse was frozen with indecision for a moment, then she steeled herself, straightening up. If they were to know what she’d done, then she would be sure that this would work.

“Meg.” She began slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I need you to listen. James isn’t willing to bargain, I know that, but the Vagabond doesn’t seem to want to either. If there was a deal that’d help him, you might be able to convince James to give a little. I’ll do what I can, but I need you to convince the Vagabond to bargain.” Elyse felt herself speed up as she was speaking, keenly aware that she was starting to ramble. “I’ll help peace to happen, but I don’t want him—James—to be hurt. I just need you to get out, and to know that there’s someone here you can trust—and please, you need to go fast. They’re going to know what I’ve done.”

“Hey—Slow down.” Meg took a step towards her, and Elyse tensed. “What about Lindsay? I can’t leave her.”

“She’s already gone—“ Elyse began. “Earlier this week—one of the guards helped her to escape, but all they care about is finding the Vagabond, and they can’t even see the things that they’re doing wrong.”

The cold look on Meg’s face slowly morphed to one of relief, and she lowered the sword slightly.

“She’s gone? And safe?”

“They haven’t found her yet.” Elyse responded quickly. “Like I said, all they care about is finding the Vagabond.

“Why are you helping me?” Meg asked.

“Because it’s right. You can tell the Vagabond, and then you can convince him that we’ve got to negotiate.” Elyse said quickly, nervously turning to glance into the darkness behind her as the sound of footsteps approaching came through the halls. “You need to get going, and soon. We don’t have long.”

Meg turned, moving away from Elyse and the sound. “Can you show me the way out?”

“Yes.” Elyse nodded, hurrying towards Meg. “But we’ve got to hurry. I lied to get us this far, and they won’t trust me after this.”

“There’s that much division between you and the king?” Meg asked appraisingly.

“No,” Elyse began quickly, “there’s not. But things are—I just disagree about this.” She finished, glancing around nervously. “We need to get moving.”

She started down the hall, moving into the darkness. “Just follow me, and be careful. I can try to avoid the guards, but there’s been more patrolling since the dragon escaped.”

Meg followed her, and Elyse uneasily moved forwards. While she understood how she needed the other’s help and trust, having her at her back when she well knew that the other had come to the castle as part of an attempt to kill her made Elyse worry, and she could only hope that her earnest desire to help had been communicated well, and that the other would understand her.

Elyse reached the end of the hall, peering carefully around the corner, watching for any guards. Meg stood behind her, tensed, sword still firmly grasped in her hand.

“It looks like we’re clear—“ Elyse began, looking back at Meg to nod, but before the words could completely leave her mouth, she heard a shout from somewhere in the distance, a voice that was unmistakably Bruce’s shouting out an alarm. Elyse froze, staring at Meg and unsure till the other carefully grabbed her arm, pushing her forwards.

“C’mon. You’ve got to focus.”

The look that Meg was giving her was almost pitying, and Elyse shook her head, reorienting herself to the task at hand.

“They know I’m missing.” She said. “We’ve got to go.”

“Can you tell me which way to go?”

“I can try, but I’ll need to get you down to a passage out. I know of a few.” Elyse stated as she jogged ahead and down the hall, Meg releasing her arm once she was sure that Elyse was moving again.

The sound of footsteps was echoing behind them, and Elyse pushed herself into a sprint, Meg at her heels.

“Left here,” Elyse called, becoming aware that she was likely being too loud as she skidded around another corner, trying to ignore the torchlight flickering from where they’d come from and the noise that was now echoing throughout the castle.

As she rounded the way, she skidded to a stop at the sight of a trio of guards at the end of the hall, barely having the time to take in what was happening before Meg had placed a strong arm around her, the other holding her stolen sword to Elyse’s throat. Elyse froze, stiff and unsure as the guards realized what they’d found, one turning to run, shouting as he did, the other two pulling out their own weapons and facing them.

“Now.” Meg began, her voice carrying down the hall. “Unless you’d prefer your Queen dead, I’d recommend that you drop your weapons.”

What had she been thinking? Why had she thought that this would work, that she could come close to anything like trusting Meg? The woman had come to kill her, there obviously hadn’t been a chance of negotiating with her. Elyse stared forwards blankly, her own knife forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The two guards stood there, hesitant, their weapons slowly lowering.

Meg moved forwards, pushing Elyse along with her as she went, edging around the gaurds.

“Which way?” She spoke quietly to Elyse once they were out of the sight of the two.

“Um, you’ll go left here,” Elyse said uneasily, trying to think of the best way out and not to focus on the sword at her neck. “Then right? And down the stairs. There’ll be one of the servant’s exits nearby there.”

“I’m sorry about this.” Meg said from behind her. “But there’s no way they’ll let me escape alone.”

“No, you’re—you’re right.” Elyse said, moving slowly forwards. “They won’t just let you go.”

“I’ll tell the Vagabond what you tried to do for me. We won’t forget that.” Meg continued as they rounded another corner, stopping as they did.

James stood at the end of the hall, Bruce at his right, Adam at his left. Elyse flinched at the look Bruce was giving her. She knew that he wouldn’t be trusting her after this, and a feeling of bitter regret came over her.

“Drop the sword, and I won’t kill you on the spot.” James said, his own weapon firm in his grasp.

“I’ll pass.” Meg stated grimly. “I leave, or she dies here.”

“After her betrayal?” James said, and Elyse felt her heart sink. “I think that you’re misunderstanding her value.”

He knew, already. Elyse had known that he’d discover what she’d done, and that the chances of her pulling any of this off undetected were nearly impossible, but she hadn’t been prepared for this confrontation to happen so soon, let alone like this.

“I think that you’re bluffing.” Meg replied coldly. “Even with that, she’s the queen. The people will care.”

“About her? You think that she’s necessary? Our marriage was political convenience, nothing more. The people don’t care for her. ”

She’d failed, she really had. Elyse realized this, all the horrible thoughts she’d ever had about what James might truly think, every nightmarish situation that she’d dreamed up seemingly coming true in this moment. The people didn’t care for her, they didn’t want or need her as their queen, and now she’d betrayed them in her effort to make things right.

“I think that you—“ Meg began, the words barely formed before something or someone thumped to the ground from the rafters above to land directly behind Meg. James lunged forwards, Bruce and Adam following quickly. The sword was being wrestled away from Meg by whoever had landed behind her, and Bruce was the one to reach Elyse first, tugging her away from Meg and pulling her to safety.

Elyse stood stiffly where Bruce pulled her to, away from the scuffle that was now taking place, and Elyse distantly realized that the figure who’d dropped down had been Joel, seemingly back from wherever he’d torn off to a few days previously, and she watched as he wrenched the sword away from Meg, more guards pouring into the hallway, led by Lord Free, bow at the ready.

Whatever took place after that, she wasn’t sure. Everything seemed to be a blur, and she only became aware of what was taking place around her again when Adam approached her, taking her by the arm and guiding her back to her rooms. Once she was in, she heard the unmistakable sound of the doors being locked, trapping her inside and alone. She stood there, in the center of the room, what’d taken place and what had been said slowly sinking in, from her own seeming stupidity to James’ words and Meg’s actions, and as they did, she sank down to sit on the floor, shivering at she did. Eventually, tears came, and she sobbed to herself, alone, waiting and wondering about what would happen.


End file.
